Bird 
Paradise 




John 

Bartlett 

Wicks 




Class _ 

Book. 

Copyright]^?. 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSITS 




Thrush Ravine 



BIRD PARADISE 



AN INTIMATE ACCOUNT 
OF A LIFELONG FRIENDSHIP 
WITH BIRD PARISHIONERS 




PHILADELPHIA 

GEORGE W. JACOBS & COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 






^'0 



V 

Copyright, 1 9 14, by 
George W. Jacobs & Company 

Published June, 1^14 



All rights reserved 
Printed in U. S. A. 



JUL -3 1314 

©Ci,A376636 



->- 



In memory of my boyhood home^ 

and of those who lived and died there^ 

and lived again^ 

I dedicate this book 

to the ever gracious spirit of the lines : 



" How dear to my heart 

Arc the scenes of my childhood 
When fond recollection 

Presents them to view. 
The orchard, the meadow. 

The deep tangled wildwood. 
And every loved spot 

That my infancy knew." 



Illustrations 



Thrush Ravine 






. Frontispiece V^ 


Bird Paradise 






Facing page l^^y 


The Western Gate 






" " 301/^ 


Tanager Hollow . 






« - 48 ^ 


Fox Run 






. " " 68 v/ 


Warbler Retreat 






90^ 


Grosbeak Glen 






" - 116 w^ 


Chickadee Outlook 






" - 150 ^^ 


Squirrel Home 






. " " 178 t^ 


The Western Height 






z\o^ 



Introduction 

Yeaes of close and cordial friendship yield 
all the cardinal elements of true life. The ex- 
perience of youth, and mature age, — the ripening 
of advancing years — in short, the friendship of 
the entire life, appears in the pages of this book. 
The daily intercourse, — life living with life — the 
citizens of nature walking hand in hand with 
man. Surely the story of such a fellowship 
must be replete with thought and things of vital 
interest to every soul. The name of the book 
*^ Bird Paradise" is suggested in the very nature 
and shaping of the story itself. The wooded tract 
on the eastern slope of the old farm has long 
borne the name of Bird Paradise. It is an ideal 
home of the birds. The life of its many residents 
appears in these pages, just as that life is passed 
in the daily experience of the creatures, each 
page the shaping of an incident complete in 
itself. The varied nature of the incidents re- 
corded is of the varied nature of the real ex- 
perience of true life. The key to it all is in the 
7 



8 INTRODUCTION 

incidents themselves — the living of the daily life. 
The outlook of it all is surely heavenward — the 
windows of its "House Beautiful" being open 
toward the light, day and night. 



Bird Paradise 



The migration of birds yet holds many secrets, 
and I conclude will for many years to come. 
Just why they migrate in many cases is yet a 
mystery. One of the best reasons that I know 
contrasts nicely with the action of the human 
brother. The bird is free from all care and can 
spend the winter in the South without neglecting 
a single duty. Why should he not take one of 
the many trains offered him and hie away to 
warmth and ease 1 He can do it by easy journey- 
ing if he so chooses. An hour^s travel every day 
will bring him easily to the haven where he 
would be, and the haven is bright with sunshine 
and replete with food. On the simple ground of 
change of scenery the bird is fully justified, or 
change of food, or greater supply. Any of these 
will do as a reason. So, too, the claim of a 
milder climate has place, easily rivaled by the 
strong inducement of plenty of good company. 
In fact, I hardly know of any good reason for 
9 



lo BIRD PARADISE 

the bird to refuse the winter outing in the South. 
It does not, however, have the character of a 
holiday outing as much as I should think it 
would. The romping and the playing are in it, 
and the feasting also, as well as entire freedom 
from care, but the singing, cheery and bright, is 
unknown. Why they should drop the song en- 
tirely goes unexplained. There they are silent, 
save a sort of monotonous chirp. Happier fel- 
lows, however, are not to be met with anywhere. 
To and fro they go, eating and drinking, careless, 
almost entirely, of everything else. 

The migration of birds, common as the years 
are common, is crowded with mysteries and won- 
ders. We know something of them, here and 
there an item, but most of it is a sealed book to 
us. Why they migrate is a question with a va- 
riety of answers and perhaps most of them have 
some place in the reply. Some birds change 
location doubtless in order to secure their neces- 
sary food. Others make the long journey as in- 
stinct prompts, knowing nothing of the reason 
for the impulse. Still others journey, I believe, 
as people travel, for the enjoyment of the thing. 
Some journey slowly and are weeks in making 
the passage. Others accomplish the flight in a 
single journey, like the Labrador plover, which 



BIRD PARADISE ii 

leaves Newfoundland and, keeping well out from 
the coast, passes to the tropics without making a 
single stop. Some birds fly in the night, others 
in the daytime. Some winter just on the edge 
of the snow line, others near the Gulf. Others in 
far-off South America. I have often heard their 
call in the night-time as they were passing over 
and have seen the flocks dropping down to the 
ground in the early morning light. In their 
flight northward the same rules govern as in the 
passage to the South. With some birds as with 
geese and ducks the migratory instinct seems to 
be a gift to the flock, the single bird being unable 
to use it. We often see birds of the migratory 
species remaining at the North through the winter. 
Someway they fall out of the regular line and 
seem unable to pick it up again. As Artemus 
Ward would say, "There is a good deal of hu- 
man nature in birds. '^ 



The best authority I can command makes the 
assertion that nearly 400,000 species of creatures 
have been discovered and classified in this world 
of ours. Think of it, think of the number, then 
of the creatures — each by itself — and the longest 
life vouchsafed to man in the realm of time affords 



12 BIRD PARADISE 

but partial acqaaintance with a small portion of 
the great host. The largest we see only iu part, 
and the smallest we do not see at all, only with 
the aid of the most powerful glass. Care for 
them all, watchful care — the kind that knows 
where they all are ; just what they are doing — 
the "open hand," which fills all things living 
with plenteousness. Ah ! the nearer vision of 
the wondrous scenes. Only the infinite gathers 
all the wheat in this boundless field. I glance 
from this sheet to the window-pane at my side, 
and there I note a minute speck, moving briskly 
over the hard service. Nothing but the black 
mote, visible to the naked eye. I put my glass 
over the object and the transformation reveals 
the perfect creature after its kind. Unlike the 
work of man, the more I magnify the creature 
the more wonderful it becomes. Bright colors 
appear, and the texture of all I see glows with 
a radiance that is surely born from above. As 
I gaze, the insect moves from my sight into the 
great world space — an aeroplane most perfect. 
The thought quickly has place, " the world about 
us— a great school — the * university of univer- 
sities.'" Knowledge free as the air we breathe, 
the student always graduating, but always a 
student. 



BIRD PARADISE 13 



Our fields have worn very gracefully the gar- 
ments of early spring. How bright the green 
has been, and what a variety of shades appear 
all along the hillside. Just now the dandelion 
is changing the color rapidly. How curiously 
the golden blossoms are distributed. In a field 
just beyond the cemetery they appear in groups, 
each a household by itself. Farther along on 
the hillside they seem to have place throughout 
the entire field with no particular difference 
in the distribution. In the old pasture at the 
swamp-side they are given a formation like the 
well-ordered ranks of a great army. I half fancy 
that I can easily point out the headquarters as 
well as the other principal places in the camp of 
the great host. Far down the Waterville road I 
catch glimpses of the blossoms forming a broad, 
beautiful selvage at the roadside extending to 
the point where the hill hides the view. But 
what a pure gold the color is — surely it is a 
standard that lacks nothing. The texture of the 
blossom rivals the color in beauty of shape and 
finish. The entire disk of yellow is made up 
of hundreds of minute flowers, each perfect after 
its kind. I frequently put one under my glass, 
getting a vision that always seems new. The 



14 BIRD PARADISE 

natural eye sees but a small part of what each 
blossom contains. I find often that a tribe of 
minute insects occupy the flower, making it their 
home. Sometimes there will be several of these 
tribes dwelling in the same blossom. Curious 
how active these little fellows are. They go in 
and out, between the minor blossoms, and seem 
to have plenty of room — a palace of gold surely. 
How clearly the heart of this common flower is 
given expression in Lowell's familiar lines : 

'* My childhood's earliest thoughts are linked with thee, 
The sight of thee calls back the robins' song, 

"Who, from the dark old tree 
Beside the door sang clearly all day long, 

And I secure in childish piety, 
Listened as I heard an angel sing 

With news from heaven which he could bring 
Fresh every day to my untainted ears, 
When birds and flowers, and I were happy peers." 



From some points on our hill I can see with 
my field-glass twenty and more teams plowing. 
Such an outlook savors altogether of the spring 
time. There is something in the steady move- 
ment of the teams that is a picture of sturdy 
strength, while the bearing of the plowman 
uplifts the banner of one who rules. How easy 




n 



BIRD PARADISE 15 

it all seems when seen from a distance. It is one 
of the instances where a certain kind of enchant- 
ment becomes the offspring of distance. As I 
see it from my far-off point of view the idea of 
any effort on the part of the team or driver is 
wholly eliminated. As a matter of fact, the oc- 
cupation is a kind of service that is far up on 
the list of man's wide field of duties. On a 
bright day, with the scene spread out before me, 
I cannot very well connect it with the idea of 
service and duty at all. It seems more like a 
great privilege — a sort of deciphering of wonder- 
ful things in a great temple of wonders. The 
furrows roll into their places and I fancy the 
hearing ear gathers of sounds that are the earth's 
shouts of joy. Why not 1 More and more I get 
the idea that the earth itself is a sort of force, 
alive in more senses than I know. Why should 
it not cry out with joy when its brother man 
extends the hand of cheery help? While I write 
the sower is sowing the seed in the great field 
opposite my study window. Here again the 
machine is doing its work, and here again I 
entertain the notion that the happy, mellow 
earth opens its heart to receive the gift. Some- 
thing there calls for its own, and as surely as 
the call is made its own is responding cheerily 



i6 BIRD PARADISE 

to the call. Life finds life, and the husbandman 
is ever at the point where the two great seas 
meet. Eight well he may rejoice, as a student 
in the school of schools. 



Occasionally I catch sight of a small flock of 
shore or horned larks. They are common along 
the New England seashore in the winter, scat- 
tering out into the country, as the fancy seizes 
them. Two little tufts of feathers give them the 
appearance of wearing a pair of horns — thus 
securing one of their names. The other name 
is readily reached from the fact that the seashore 
is their favorite haunt. Unlike most other small 
birds, they walk through the grass as they are 
feeding. In manners they resemble somewhat 
the other members of the family, giving vent to 
their feeliugs in a breezy way. I understand 
that they extend their journeying over quite a 
portion of our north country, frequently passing 
well down into the Carolinas. I sometimes come 
upon their nests in the spring and I think they 
are the earliest housekeepers among our smaller 
birds. In the realm of song they are not profi- 
cient. Of course they have their common call 
note, and in the breeding season, a succession of 



BIRD PARADISE 17 

notes that might be termed a song. The nest is 
pnt into a little cavity in the ground, being con- 
structed of grass and moss. When I come upon 
them suddenly in the field they have a way of 
throwing themselves into the air, whirling up- 
ward as though shot from some strong bow. 
Audubon says that they have the practice of 
soaring and singing in the air, like the English 
lark, but I have never seen them. 



A family of bluebirds have made me a visit 
of at least a week's duration. They do their 
own cooking, provide their own lodging, in 
short, are no expense to the parson in the slight- 
est degree. The young fellows look plump, and 
are so. Their new coats fit them without a 
wrinkle, but their voices are way off from the 
usual cheery song of the race. At first I thought 
some new bird had appeared, but investigation 
revealed the fact that it was the old, old story, and 
bluebird's way of telling it. There is something 
quite interesting in these family outfits, especially 
as they draw on to the point of separating for the 
rest of life's journey. There doesn't seem to be 
any particular sentiment in their action, and 
they go apart as a sort of matter of course ; in 



i8 BIRD PARADISE 

fact, it sometimes appears as though they really 
enjoyed it. How is it that so much affection 
apparently can be felt for a time, and then all 
disappear, as with a turn of the hand ? To-day 
strong, to-morrow nothing. In brief, now ready 
to die in the defense of the child, but soon for- 
getting that the child ever was. Verily life's 
paradoxes are many and varied. 



I hear the drumming of the partridge from the 
coverts of the swamp. It is a spring sound, and 
I sometimes think it is the fellow's way of doing 
his singing. Once in my boyhood I saw the 
bird in the act itself. As he went along the log 
upon which he was moving, he brought his 
wings together in front of him, making the hol- 
low sound which we give the name of drumming. 
I enjoy watching these birds. They have an 
independent way of doing things which renders 
them quite attractive. In their leisure moments 
they do some playing, but I fancy it does not 
come quite natural to them. Of all our native 
birds there is none that excels the partridge in 
shyness. He is ever on the watch. How he can 
get in a stroke of anything else is a problem. 
Occasionally one comes into my lawn trees, but 



BIRD PARADISE 19 

I conclude from his actions that he has been 
seriously disturbed in his native haunts, or he 
would not be seen so far from home. An event 
of my boyhood reads : *' To-day, in the old cedar 
swamp, I came upon a family of partridges that 
were only a few days from the nest. There was a 
commotion in the camp, and in less than a min- 
ute the young fellows all disappeared among the 
leaves. With the help of my spaniel dog I found 
them all — fifteen in number. After a few minutes 
I gave them their freedom again, greatly to the 
delight of the parent birds. ' ' 



A pair of bluebirds spent a good part of a day 
investigating a cavity in one of my apple trees 
this week. They went in and out, talked the 
matter over, apparently a dozen times, and I 
suppose reached the conclusion that the place 
was not suited for their purpose, as I have seen 
nothing of them since. The gentility of good 
breeding appears in all that the bluebird says 
and does. I never have known him to speak 
harshly or behave unkindly. If other birds take 
his coat he is pretty certain to let them have his 
cloak also. His song is always keyed to a gentle 
quaver that overflows with peace and good will. 



20 BIRD PARADISE 

I have seen him give up on the demand of others 
until he had nothing left for himself. Not a 
word of complaint did he utter ; on the contrary 
he seemed more and more the embodiment of the 
very spirit of patient, genial good nature. As 
he does no striking, of course, he never strikes 
back. If, as Burroughs says, *Hhe bluebird is 
the bird of nature, being earth brown below, and 
sky blue above,'' he is certainly most heavenly 
through the pure white within. The old saying 
that *'it takes two to make a quarreP' is illus- 
trated nicely in this bird's behavior. He goes 
about owning in fee simple everything, just happy 
in the ownership, and yet never proclaims his 
rights in any way only by letting the other fellow 
have them all. Ah ! what grace there is in this 
one bird of all the birds. He is a preacher of 
righteousness that needeth not to be ashamed. 
The parson gives him the right hand of fellow- 
ship as one sent by the Master in whom there is 
indeed no guile. 

Sitting in my porch last evening I noticed, 
when it had become quite dark, not only my pair 
of bats on duty but several chimney swifts circling 
about with them, the entire company intent on 
securing a sumptuous supper. They continued 



BIRD PARADISE 21 

the exercise until I could only see them as they 
passed from the shadow of the trees into the 
lighter open space. The whole procedure was 
exactly what I should expect from the bats but I 
never before had seen the swifts up so late. It 
occurred to me that flies of a particularly luscious 
sort were making a short stop on our hilltop and 
the swifts had to keep awake late in the evening 
in order to get their share. There seemed to be 
a sort of fellowship between the creatures which 
argued well for the characters of both. I could 
hear the bills of the birds snap as the flies passed 
their portals but my bat friends gave no sound. 
One of the toothsome viands that the bat enjoys 
is the common mosquito. I encourage this taste 
in the creatures, feeling that it is a good thing for 
the bats and really a commendable use to which 
the insects can be put. It may be that the swift 
has a relish for the best groomed mosquitoes. If 
it be so his indulgence of it to the utmost is fully 
approved by the parson. 

I notice that the ants are busy with household 
duties very similar to those now occupying the 
attention of the thrifty housewives in our hill 
country. Among the busiest of these active citi- 
zens I class those which bear the name of mound 



22 BIRD PARADISE 

builders. In the old pastures near the swamp 
the little mounds of these tireless workers may be 
seen scattered over quite an extent of ground. 
Two or three of these curious houses have been 
erected in my orchard and I saw last evening 
that one which I have known many years, located 
in the farther part of the cemetery, had been 
given a new story this spring. Somewhere in the 
ground below, the work of excavation had gone 
on, the earth being brought up by the ants in 
small particles and added to the stature of the 
house. Fifteen or twenty doors were wide open 
and hundreds of the dwellers were going and 
coming every moment. I used what diplomacy 
I was possessed of in trying to fellowship with 
my diminutive neighbors, but they were too busy 
to make much response to my effort. I half 
suspect that they work night and day when they 
have anything to do and I am pretty sure they 
always have something to do. Why not a school 
of industry right under my eye ever proclaiming 
*Ho him who works as well as waits all things 
come.'^ 



A friend brought me this morning a curiosity 
in the construction of birds' nests. He found 



BIRD PARADISE 23 

it on a beam in the barn where a robin had been 
in the habit of putting its summer cottage. 
There were three complete nests built in a row 
and joined together strongly with stalks of dried 
grass. I am at a loss just how to account for 
such a novelty. A pair of robins frequently 
rear two broods in one season, but I have not 
known them to add still another. In those cases 
where I have known two broods reared the 
second nest was a new one in another place. I 
never have known them to use a nest the second 
time. If the nests were separate and only placed 
side by side without being joined together firmly 
I should conclude that they were built by the 
same pair of birds — a nest yearly for three years. 
But here they are with the foundation of dried 
grass extending under the three, making them in 
that particular virtually one nest. The theory 
that three pairs of birds joined in the construc- 
tion of the nests is not tenable from the fact that 
in a venture of this nature the parties cannot 
agree well enough to make such a common plan a 
real success. I am quite disposed to regard the 
venture as that of a single pair of robins who 
took a ^Mong look ahead,'' planning their house 
scheme so that three households were successfully 
reared in one season. It certainly has the merit 



24 BIRD PARADISE 

of being a real time-saver and perhaps at times 
robin needs to practice economy in that direction. 



I hear occasionally the plaintive note of the 
wood pewee. It has little in mere sound to rec- 
ommend it, but I conclude it carries the heart of 
the would-be singer, therefore is always valuable. 
Pewee belongs to the family of the flycatchers — 
none of Ihem so far as I know noted as the 
possessor of beauty of person. Sometimes with 
the birds there is lack of personal attraction that 
is nicely compensated in great beauty of song, but 
nothing of the kind appears with pewee. His 
voice, though clear, is keyed so sharply that it 
avoids everything musical. Two notes comprise 
the venture and the very close of the refrain is its 
best feature. Pewee and his young family are all 
voracious feeders. All kinds of small insects are 
viands at his feasting, and his feasting occupies 
his attention every moment through the day. I 
notice he has a special fondness for the mosquito 
and in their season cheerfully appropriates multi- 
tudes of them every day. While nearly all 
writers agree that this bird is a migrant — spend- 
ing his winters in the South, I often hear his call 
in the winter and frequently see him flitting 



BIRD PARADISE 25 

among the trees. Just what he fiuds of appetiz- 
ing food in the cold weather I do not know. I 
conclude, however, from what I have seen, that 
the grubs and insects under the bark of the trees 
furnish him with an abundant supply. I see 
him sometimes enjoying the friendship of the 
woodpeckers, so I conclude he is more socially 
inclined than some other members of his family. 



The birds are now well entered upon their long 
vacation season. I fancy a real change in char- 
acter marks their demeanor from this time on un- 
til the housekeeping season returns again. The 
youDg fellows, as a rule, dress in suits of their 
own, though in some cases, as with the bobolinks, 
the entire race adopt a common raiment. In some 
instances, notably with the blue jays, the children 
of the family are attired in a manner entirely 
their own. A year passes before they don their 
regular suits. Just how the plumage is shaped 
and reshaped, sometimes appearing in the guise 
of one color, then another — no mistake made in 
any case — is no small mystery. The bobolinks 
are now gathered in flocks and in a few days will 
be on their way southward. I can easily see how 
the annual journey southward is one of large ad- 



26 BIRD PARADISE 

vantage, but how it should begin as eaiiy as it 
does with the bobolinks and swallows is certainly 
a puzzling thing. Plenty of food here, and good 
weather, ** why not stay ? " is all answered by the 
going, and the going seems to be all the answer 
there is. Go and come at will seems to be 
the law governing the birds' migration very 
largely. 



The killdeer plover has taken his flight to the 
Sunny South. The other members of his large 
family are keeping him company — a merry party 
wherever they are. With the killdeers, as with 
the other birds, the season has favored the growth 
and safety of their young. Years ago we had in 
the spring and fall flights what was known as the 
field or golden plover. They came to us from 
the North at the time of wheat sowing, and usually 
spent a month or more in our hill country. They 
were sought as a table delicacy, and by some were 
considered more appetizing than the wild pigeon. 
I saw them on the plains of Oklahoma in great 
flocks, where they spent most of the winter. On 
«ome of our long journeys we found them quite 
an addition to our daily cuisine. All the plovers 
are bright stirring birds, seemingly ever on the 






BIRD PARADISE 27 

move. Ill their migratory flight I think they 
outdo almost all other birds. Far up in the Arctic 
regions they build their nests and rear their 
young. Once on the wing for the South they 
seem to think that the journey is incomplete un- 
less they push far down to distant Patagonia. Not 
all the species make this record, but some of them 
do and seem to be none the worse for the extended 
journey. The song of the i)lovers is nothing more 
than a call note uttered mostly in flight. As a 
scavenger among the grubs and insects they are 
very helpful to the farmer, and their cheery way 
of making the most of life recommends them 
highly. 



A friend sends me a clipping from the New 
York Times bearing the date of March 8th. It is 
an item of news from Montclair, New Jersey, con- 
cerning the birds. It announces that almost all 
over the mountain top in Montclair to-day could 
be seen robins and bluebirds in abundance. 
*' To-day," it says, ^'the robins are taking pos- 
session of their old nests and putting them in order 
for spring.^* My friend who sends me the para- 
graph thinks the last item must be a dream. 
Very likely, however, the snow in that locality 



28 BIRD PARADISE 

has gone and usually the birds come trooping in 
as soon as it has melted away, especially if the 
weather be warm and sunny. The species named 
in the article push northward about March 1st, 
keeping pace with the disappearance of the 
snow. In 1857 many of them reached us in Feb- 
ruary, both February and March being open 
warm months. Some of the robins nested and 
were caught in the great April snow-storms — 
learning when too late that the birds with the 
best intentions cannot force the season. Large 
numbers of the robins when they migrate stop 
for the winter just south of the snow line of lati- 
tude. Some go farther, even extending their 
journey to the shores of the Gulf. All of them, 
however, turn their steps northward about the 
first of February — ready, if all things are favora- 
ble, to occupy the summer home. A week of 
sunny weather now would bring them to us in 
large numbers. There seems to be no instinctive 
guidance concerning the proper time for the birds 
to inaugurate their summer housekeeping. 



The j unco sparrows are now guests of ours from 
the far North. What travelers they are and how 
little they show the wear and care of extensive 



BIRD PARADISE 29 

journeying. Some of these fellows that greet me 
so cheerily have roamed over the continent far 
within the Arctic regions. Of course I get noth- 
ing from them concerning their trip, and still, 
perhaps, the case hardly warrants so strong a 
statement. There is no experience lost. Wherever 
its lines fall it leaves its mark and a little observ- 
ance reveals the fact. The junco of extensive 
travel is a larger bird than the plodder that has 
never been outside its own dooryard. Whether 
he realizes it or not he has gathered from the 
wider fields and the harvest a new feather in his 
cap. I like to see him wear it ; yes, even when 
his small head seems to be a little turned by the 
experience. I never have heard the fellow's 
soDg, but read that it is a pleasant sparrow war- 
ble. They will stay about here a few days then 
take their trolley line for the South, returning in 
the spring happy and careless apparently as the 
day is long. 



A killdeer passed over the rectory last evening 
moving on rapid wing. At every stroke of the 
wings he gave his peculiar cry, moving appar- 
ently without effort. A pair of killdeers nest 
near the swamp, and I hear their sharp call 



30 BIRD PARADISE 

every day. Of all the birds, this fellow seems 
the most nervous. Sitting still is no part of his 
experience, and he has shown me how he does it. 
I hear him sometimes in the night ; probably an 
owl or a fox is the cause of the wakefulness and 
hurried call. In the spring lot on the old farm, 
a family of killdeer were on duty every season. 
Driving the cows home at milking time was sure 
to be delayed somewhat by attention given to the 
young killdeer. The tip-up is a sort of first 
cousin to the killdeer and I sometimes think it a 
trifle more nervous. His practice of tilting his 
little body every time he utters his brief note 
gives him his name. I have often watched these 
water birds where there was a clean stretch of 
hard sand, and the ease and swiftness with 
which they run over it is not excelled by any 
other bird. 



The little kinglets from the far North looked in 
upon me this week What bright, active fellows 
they are and how easily they accomplish their 
purposes as they go to and fro in the wide pas- 
tures of the trees. The pair that made me a visit 
said nothing about the particular places that they 
had visited during the summer, neither did they 




I 



The Western Gate 



BIRD PARADISE 31 

make any statement concerning the place where 
they expected to spend the winter. When they 
push their flight northward I have the notion 
that they find their way well up to the precincts 
of the pole. They are chary singers and are not 
given to any extra amount of talking. As I see 
them, they are usually in company with the 
warblers and are so like the company they are in 
that it is sometimes quite difficult to tell them 
apart. I am told that they sometimes nest in 
northern New York but I have the notion that 
most of their nesting is far up in the wilds of 
Canada. The descriptions that I have of their 
nests are curious, the strangest being the fact 
that they frequently put two layers of eggs in the 
same nest. Just how they manage to hatch such 
a number deponent saith not. Next month my 
visitors will go on their way, finally reaching the 
wilds of South America. Back they come in the 
spring, repeating the journey year after year. 
What witnesses they are to the settled order and 
stability of all the ways of bird life. 



I have seen a few members of the junco sparrow 
family during the past week. What bright lit- 
tle fellows they are and what activity they show 



32 BIRD PARADISE 

as they go to and fro in the trees and hedgerows. 
They are socially inclined, for I rarely see them 
unless they are in company with not only their 
own kind, but with the members of other sparrow 
species. That slate-colored coat of theirs reflects 
the sunbeams handsomely, while the genial man- 
ners of the species mark them as creatures of 
good breeding. A little later they will hie away 
to the South, turning their backs on snow and 
cold. When I want the best of bird manners I 
am sure of finding them among the j uncos. 

At this point in writing these notes I glance 
from the window and there a few feet away is a 
red squirrel busy with duties which he takes 
great pleasure in discharging at this season of the 
year. Evidently he had his eye on part of an 
apple that lay temptingly on the ground a few 
feet from the foot of the tree. It was a real les- 
son in squirrel athletics to see him whirling down 
the trunk of the tree and returning in the same 
manner. The morsel he secured was conveyed to 
an old summer nest of his, far up among the 
branches. There at his leisure he made a feast 
that he gave every evidence of enjoying with real 
zest. I suppose the pair that dwell on my emi- 
nent domain have a supply of food laid up that 
will serve them nicely for at least two winters. 



BIRD PARADISE 33 



Two species of the kinglet family — the golden 
crowned and the ruby crowned — visit us twice 
during the year. They nest far to the northward 
and look in upon us in the spring and fall as they 
journey on the annual migration. I sometimes 
think that they rank next to the humming-bird 
in smallness of size. I have never seen their nest, 
though I am told that they sometimes breed in 
northern New York. The nest is described as 
quite bulky for the size of the bird. One writer 
speaks of one he saw as being nicely constructed 
and containing a large number of eggs, placed in 
two layers, one above the other. How the in- 
cubation under such conditions can be carried out 
is something of a problem. When they visit us 
in the fall they are usually in company with the 
warblers, and it is difficult to tell them apart as 
they pass to and fro in the trees. I think I have 
seen them here in the winter, and doubtless some 
of them tarry in our hill country during the cold 
weather. The greater number, however, journey 
far down to the genial weather of the torrid zone. 
Their song is scarcely more than a call note, re- 
peated several times in a bright, cheery way. 
When I pass in review the species of birds that 
rank in size and habits with these active kinglets. 



34 BIRD PARADISE 

I get a new revelation of the diversity of gifts, all 
in the house of the same spirit. The birds are 
interpreters of the abundant life, and the book of 
their scripture speaks with full voice of the good- 
ness of the common Father. 



I passed yesterday a brook that flows from the 
hillside — a full, cheery stream in the first step it 
takes. I lingered a little while t^o give greeting 
to one of the children of the fields and groves 
that always seems to me a living thing. Did 
you ever shake hands with a brook? — a real 
hearty, whole-souled hand-shake ? If there be a 
sacrament of life in the great church of nature I 
am sure it is found in the brook, as it is discov- 
ered nowhere else. This particular stream rip- 
pled away for a hundred yards, then crossed the 
road, and just ambled off through a pasture that 
seemed made especially for it. The channel in 
the field was shallow, too shallow for the water 
that would flow in its bed. How easily the 
brooklet met the new conditions. Like a good 
general in a strange land it threw out skirmish- 
ers upon both flanks, and I noticed that in their 
advance they covered the entire ground clear to 
the base of the hills on each side. The grass in 



BIRD PARADISE 35 

the wide channel was a bright green, and as tlie 
water flowed along it seemed to play with the 
spears of grass as though they were living crea- 
tures. I half fancied that the gurgling sounds I 
heard were the commands issued to the rippling 
cohorts, and I noticed that they were obeyed 
implicitly. Below where I stood the scattered 
waters joined their forces and I heard that pe- 
culiar sound of the wandering streamlet that 
always seems to me one of the sweetest sounds 
in the great Temple of Nature. From where I 
stood I could see the channel for quite a distance, 
but the story it told came from the heart of the 
brook wandering far beyond my siglit — all of it 
the perfect gentleness of a waitress in the halls 
of the *^ great king." I parted with the vision, 
the words of the wise man giving form to the 
lesson, '^The well-spring of wisdom, as a flow- 
ing brook." 

It is not often that a member of the hawk 
family visits my lawn. It is only occasionally 
that I see them in the village. This week, how- 
ever, was the hawk's opportunity, and he im- 
proved it after the spirit of his tribe. I heard 
the robins and smaller birds sounding their loud 
warning cries and knew that some serious trouble 



36 BIRD PARADISE 

was being experienced. Going down to the gar- 
den I soon discovered the cause of the commo- 
tion. A sparrow hawk had captured one of the 
smaller birds and was so busy dissecting his 
prize that he did not see me until I was quite 
near him. I felt no enmity toward the fellow, 
as I knew he was simply providing food for his 
breakfast. I do not see him when I think he is 
really hunting for the sport of the thing. It 
may be that there are times when he makes a 
pastime of securing his meals. He certainly 
moves with a celerity and skill that might well 
awaken a feeling of real pride over the posses- 
sion and use of such a gift. I have seen him 
when he took great risks ; in fact, all of the hawk 
family will, at times, incur great danger in carry- 
ing out their plans. On the old farm the visits 
of these birds was a daily occurrence through the 
summer. All sorts of devices were used to pre- 
vent their depredations. I remember well think- 
ing in my boy way that the hawk was really not 
to be blamed for being a hawk and using his 
powers as it was intended he should use them. 



My flicker tenants are present at the summer 
trysting place in full season. A whir of wings 



BIRD PARADISE 37 

followed by a loud call was the first knowledge 
I had of their presence. They went up and 
down the bird ways of the village park and 
made merry in the lawns and orchards. I had 
the notion that they were trying to tell our peo- 
ple where they had spent the winter, and of the 
new life it had put into their keeping. I have 
seen the fellows in the South and they carry 
about with them the same rollicking spirit that 
marks their demeanor here at the North. Flicker 
seems to be true to his flicker nature wherever 
he may be. Work and play with him are golden 
opportunities for being cheery and stout hearted 
and he improves to the utmost all that is olfered 
him in this way. I noticed that the pair who 
made me the visit so early in the season called 
at the flicker home in the maple front of the 
church. The English sparrows vacated the 
premises at the first warning. Someway they 
have a wholesome fear of flicker and never dis- 
pute his title to any of the things in mother 
nature's house. From what I see I judge that 
flicker repairs his old home each spring — papers 
and paints as it were — using it for several years. 
One of my favorite pastimes is watching the 
workmen when they are constructing a new 
house. The stout bill is all the tool they have, 



38 BIRD PARADISE 

and they use it with wonderful power and skill. 
Some one has said ^Hhat without humor there 
can be no genius." By that rule flicker ranks 
high as a bird genius. He is all alive with abun- 
dant humor. 

Among the water birds that spend the summers 
in our hill country killdeer ranks with the first. 
He comes northward quite early and I conclude 
from his actions passes several weeks in real 
bird-pastime before he takes up the regular busi- 
ness of housekeeping. His entire song is meas- 
ured by the one word, which has become his 
name, killdeer. Curious how he uses it when on 
the wing. He flies rapidly and at almost every 
stroke of the wings the note is uttered shrill and 
clear. The bird gives one the impression, like 
the blue jay, that it is very much in love with its 
song. In the marshy ground just east of the vil- 
lage there are several places where killdeer nests. 
The nest is hardly more than a slight cavity in 
the ground, though it is sometimes partially 
lined with a few spears of dried grass. The 
little stretches of sandy beach that are found 
here and there in the marsh are favorite runways 
for the killdeer. I have watched them at times 
when I thought every bird was full of the spirit 



BIRD PARADISE 39 

of real gaming. The good sense of the company 
seemed to be the real umpire of the game, and 
the charge carried the idea with it that it was 
honest oversight. The suit worn by these birds 
is attractive in appearance and while not con- 
spicuous for color is every way becoming in finish 
and neatness. No harm ensues to the farmers' 
crops in any of the acts of killdeer so far as I 
know. On the contrary, he is an all around 
good fellow, doing good service at every turn. 

In the village cemetery a colony of red ants 
preempted a claim some years ago and by an 
industrious course of their kind of work reared a 
mansion that could be seen from all parts of the 
ground. Last spring it became necessary to re- 
move the mound. It was done by simply level- 
ing it with the surface of the yard. It was a 
great surprise to the red-coated citizens of the 
borough. I saw them running to and fro, evi- 
dently taking observations as to the best method 
of repairing damages. The result appears in a 
deposit of fine earth over a space measured by 
the extent of the original home — perhaps a 
quarter of an inch in thickness. What workers 
they are ! When destruction came upon their 
house scattering the entire structure to the winds 



40 BIRD PARADISE 

not a moment was spent bemoaning the mishap. 
At least so it all appeared. With the finishing 
of the leveling process came the uprising of every 
creature in the band. Hardly an hour passed ere 
the old order was restored and the bands of 
workers were on duty in every direction. The 
strokes of the levelers opened to the light the 
inner chambers of the dwelling. The first work 
was to put new doors to all these places. I 
estimated that on the space of three feet square 
there were two or three thousand workers. In a 
few days the first new roof was in place. This 
was soon followed by another, and I suppose if 
they were left undisturbed this would go on 
through the years to the house restored. All 
done without one word of protest. What in- 
structors the ants are ! 



Merry-hearted I have written before concern- 
ing the flicker and every year I have the truth 
of the statement reaffirmed. The pair that have 
located in one of my maple trees are the busiest, 
merriest creatures that I meet with anywhere. 
The first gleam of light in the morning kindles 
the fire of flicker's daily life. I hear him hurry- 
ing through the lawn trees uttering his loud 



BIRD PARADISE 41 

calls. When I appear on the scene I fancy that 
the pair vie together in giving me a cheery greet- 
ing. I take it as a morning salutation and I am 
sure it does me good. Such an amount of talk- 
ing as they do at the door of their house is not 
rivaled by any other bird. If free- spirited dis- 
cussion contributes to the well-being of the 
flicker home, then these birds are greatly blessed. 
Some of their talks convey the idea that they do 
not always fully agree on the shape and finish of 
the house they are building. The disagreements, 
however, do not seem to interfere particularly with 
the progress of the work. I noticed this evening 
that when the rain came on both birds managed 
to find cover in the cavity they had made. 



I was reading recently of the fact that a few 
of the old-time passenger pigeons were still left 
far up in the wilds of British Columbia and that 
a brief time more would entirely exterminate the 
species. It seems impossible that a bird which 
was found in every part of our countiy in such 
immense numbers should have reached the end of 
its career. We well remember when the spring 
and fall flights of these birds fairly darkened the 
air. In 1840 the fall flight menaced the wheat 



42 BIRD PARADISE 

fields with utter destruction. The parson, then 
a mere boy, recalls the fact of being placed in a 
part of the wheat field on the old farm while the 
workmen were engaged in another portion. His 
business was to frighten away the pigeons which 
came down upon the stacks of wheat in immense 
numbers. What a rushing sound the great flocks 
made in passing ! Thousands were killed by the 
hunters, and thousands more caught in nets, 
being kept and fattened for future use. It was a 
common saying when the beechnuts were plenti- 
ful, "The woods are full of pigeons." I have 
seen the ground covered with the great flocks — 
thousands being under the eye. Curious how 
these birds nested. Multitudes of nests were put 
near together, the limbs sometimes breaking 
under the weight. I was told of their roosting 
places when I was in Oklahoma, where they as- 
sembled night after night in vast numbers. Wild 
animals of many kinds preyed upon them and 
the hunters came from every direction, securing 
great quantities of the birds. 



Crossing the fields this morning I came upon 
a large flock of meadow-larks. There were fifty 
and more birds in the flock and every one seemed 



BIRD PARADISE 43 

to be bubbling over with lark fun. When I first 
saw them about half the company was occupying 
the branches of a large elm tree, the other mem- 
bers of the party being on the ground on all sides 
of the tree. They seemed to be jollying each 
other, after the manner of men, the jokes flying 
back and forth thick and fast. Of course I had 
no way by which I could be sure as to just what 
they were doing, but to all appearance it seemed 
to be an occasion of sport pure and simple. I 
found myself wondering whether I had not lost 
much of what the birds say and do by not being 
around early enough in the morning. My inter- 
view with the larks was just as day was break- 
ing, about five o'clock in the morning. On the 
principle that the early bird secures the worm, I 
had gotten into the fields by moonlight, hoping to 
secure a fine basket of mushrooms. The growth 
in the fungus world had not taken place as I an- 
ticipated, so I improved the occasion by inter- 
viewing the birds. I cherished the notion that 
the flock I saw might have been on the wing 
most of the night and had just dropped down in 
the old pasture to take breakfast. After a little 
I noticed they all scattered over the field, each 
intent upon securing what he could to break the 
morning fast. 



44 BIRD PARADISE 



There are mornings and mornings in the dis- 
pensation of our hill country weather. Each 
season of the passing year gives a message all its 
own. Curious that the observer usually con- 
cludes that the pageant of the present is superior 
to all that has preceded it. One of the distin- 
guishing marks of personal growth is the vision 
broader and richer in each passing moment. 
This very week the day was ushered in three 
separate times, not a discordant note in the entire 
scene. From my garden outlook the Oriskany 
Valley, for miles in extent, wore a beautiful veil 
of pure white. Here and there the church tower 
or the tall tree stood uncovered in the great 
temple. When the sun looked out from the 
eastern sky its beams of light played along the 
slope of the hills, riding glad and free over the 
highways of the great fog bank, every one of 
them really ^ ' the ransomed of the Lord. ^ ' In the 
fulness of the day the open sacrament of heaven 
appeared, every breath of the scene '^the given of 
the Lord's life, radiant with the glory that never 
fades." 

A family of flickers are making daily visits to 
my lawn. They come usually in the afternoon 



BIRD PARADISE 45 

and spend an hour or two in a manner peculiar to 
this bird. As they come from the direction of 
Burritt's hill I conclude that their early home 
was in that locality. I don't know that the alti- 
tude has anything to do with a bird's welfare, 
but certainly the elevation of 1,650 feet makes an 
ideal place to begin the journey of life. It is 
quite a lesson in bird coasting to watch the 
flickers as they come down from the hill. They 
move in broad curves, gliding down to the vil- 
lage with the greatest ease. I notice they seem 
to have a preference for the large apple tree in 
my front yard. When the six birds are duly 
gathered in the old tree the fun begins. They 
glide around the great trunk, up and down, like 
boys at play. I know of no other bird that in- 
dulges in bird humor as the flickers do. If I 
understand it at all it ripples, innocent and clear, 
very much as it does with human beings. The 
old birds range about the lawn, uncovering many 
a dainty morsel for the hungry youngsters. While 
they are at play they use a sort of subdued 
chuckle that seems the very embodiment of 
cheery sport. I notice that the other birds show 
great deference to the flickers. From what I 
have seen I judge that the flicker is a peaceable 
fellow, but is ready to resent with vigor any tres- 



46 BIRD PARADISE 

passing upon his rights by other birds. I extend 
the right hand of fellowship to them always, being 
well assured that they rank among the well-bred 
gentlemen of my feathered friends. 



Curious that the bird, which at one time was 
more plentiful here than all the other species put 
together, should have been completely exter- 
minated. The wild or passenger pigeon, as it is 
sometimes called, has entirely disappeared. I say 
entirely, but I read that a few of them still exist 
in the wilds of British America. The last that I 
saw was in 1882, in the forests of southern 
Oklahoma. Sixty years ago this bird was so 
common throughout the settled portions of our 
country that at times the growing crops were 
greatly injured by their depredations. I recall 
the time when they flocked here in vast numbers 
— the spring and fall flights lasting for several 
days. At times the immense flocks could be seen 
in every direction — sometimes darkening the sun 
as they passed. Wild pigeons, cooked in differ- 
ent ways, formed the staple food of most of our 
families for the time being. Many were netted, 
and kept in some convenient outhouse, where 
they were fattened and used through the season. 



BIRD PARADISE 47 

I have seen in the spring of the year the ground 
in Bird Paradise literally covered with the birds 
feeding. They were searching for the sprouting 
beechnuts and my father's common expression 
concerning their numbers was, ''There are acres 
of them there. '^ One of our boyish pastimes 
was startling the host by a sudden loud noise. 
What a roar of wings followed, and what multi- 
tudes of birds rushed to and fro, apparently wild 
with fright. 



The flickers are busy with their peculiar kind of 
nest building. One of the maples on my lawn 
furnishes a large dead limb, which they examine 
with the greatest care. Several years ago they 
excavated a home there, and a family of spriglitly 
young birds graduated in due time from the cozy 
spot. Every year since they gather there in 
April, five or six of them, and spend a number 
of days, talking and flying about, evidently 
greatly in earnest. Sometimes it results in a pair 
of them occuj^ying the old mansion for the season. 
At other times the result of the conclave is the 
abandonment of the locality by all the birds. 
Yesterday six of the fellows spent the entire day 
going to and fro, busy every moment. From my 



48 BIRD PARADISE 

study window, I could see the parties, rushing 
hither and thither, calling out to each other, and 
by turns examining the old maple. How easily 
they balanced along in their peculiar way, com- 
ing down from the Burritt grove. Then such 
scurrying through the trees, around and up the 
trunks, in and out of the old nesting place — hour 
after hour of it. What a flicker day it was and 
how the birds seemed to enjoy every moment. 
Toward night I saw them rushing away to the 
grove, apparently as far from a decision as to 
whom should occupy the old homestead as when 
they first took the matter up in the morning. 
Judging from what has occurred in previous 
years, they will require four or five more days of 
conference before the final decision is reached. 



Birds, like human beings, have curious freaks. 
A large gray woodpecker spent the entire day re- 
cently drumming on one of the maple trees 
directly in front of my study window. Just what 
he meant by it I could not learn. The tree is 
perfectly sound, to all appearance, and the fellow 
did not seem to secure anything in the way of 
food. Occasionally he would pound away in a 
sort of ecstasy, as though the work itself was the 




Tax ACER Hollow 



BIRD PARADISE 49 

merriest kind of fun ; then he would patrol the 
limbs, far out to the small twigs, and I half fan- 
cied that his manner said several times, " Didn't 
I do that well?" The robins and blackbirds 
were not at all pleased with the fellow's opera- 
tions. They looked him over several times and 
sat as near to him as they dared, but did not ven- 
ture to interfere with any of his plans. I rather 
enjoy seeing both the blackbird and robin non- 
plussed now and then. I don't know that they 
learn anything by it, but there is a sort of " quid- 
pro-quo ' ' in the stroke that looks wholesome. I 
noticed that the woodpecker paid no attention to 
any of the spectators, but kept strictly to his own 
business, though I have not been able, as yet, to 
find out just what that was. 



The first accents of the morning song of the 
birds are now heard about half-past three. 
*' Early to bed and early to rise" is the reading 
of the entire bird record. The robins seem to be 
the pioneers in the great waking up. What an 
awakening it is and what a song follows ! All 
along the line of longitude flashes the first rays of 
light. The choir seems to be waiting for them. 
From among the apple blossoms of my orchard 



50 BIRD PARADISE 

there is the response of half a dozen species of 
birds. It ripples away down into the meadow 
below like the wandering murmur of the brook. 
I can hear the members of the great choir joining 
in the refrain until thirty and more dilferent 
species are greeting the sun, ^'rejoicing to run its 
course." Curious that this offering of the birds 
is never twice alike. Curious, too, that there are 
no discords. The choirs that are trained in the 
great temple of nature sing out of the heart, and 
heart singing is sure of its footing always. A 
favorite nook of mine when all nature is clapping 
its hands together is down by the old cemetery 
where I get the music of both the field and wood 
birds. I like to fancy the entire scene as a great 
offering of real worship — a multitude of ways and 
forms, every one in its proper place, and all look- 
ing up. No contention among the birds about 
the way of getting into the Father's house or of 
the way of getting to His heart when they are 
once in the house. Their offering in some ways 
is my offering in them. It takes the parson to 
the gates wide open, where the morning stars still 
sing together, and will forever. 

I have just seen a bird known in the books as 
the brown creeper. He has many of the habits 



BIRD PARADISE 51 

of the woodpecker as well as an appearance in 
color of plumage very similar. The fellow has a 
way of locating his nest in a crevice that often is 
not very secure. His song is a pleasant warble 
that is not easy to put into words. The worm- 
eating warbler is a bird of about the same size as 
the creeper, and is very similar in its habits. It 
is easy to confound the two if we have only a 
distant view of them. Sitting in my friend's 
house in Holland Patent last week, I heard the 
call note of the brown creeper. Turning to the 
window, there the little fellow was on the trunk 
of a tree not more than six feet from where I was 
sitting. His movements were not very rapid, and 
he did not seem in the least disturbed by his 
proximity to the human brother. His spring at- 
tire, neat and clean, gave him a very attractive 
appearance, while his gentle manners recom- 
mended him as a bird well worth knowing. How 
easily he traversed the trunk of the old tree. 
Bound and round he went, working his way up 
to the branches — a model of diligence and easy 
familiarity. His first cousin, the worm -eating 
warbler, is quicker in his movements and wears 
a little brighter dress. I never have seen the fel- 
low's nest, but am told that he places it on the 
ground, in general appearance much like that of 



52 BIRD PARADISE 

the oven bird. The song has a domestic flavor 
like that of the tree sparrow, and is certainly a 
credit to the singer. I give them the full freedom 
of my small city, knowing that they can be trusted 
anywhere in its streets and houses. 



Occasionally I see the kingfisher watching the 
gateways of our ponds and creeks. What an 
active, contented sportsman he is. Like other 
sportsmen, he fails now and then to strike the 
quarry, but it in no way dampens his ardor. 
Fishing with him is a business and he follows it 
with zeal whether the returns be large or small. 
I have seen them put forth large effort to capture 
our common brook trout, but never with much 
success. Fish of slower movement are the game 
he seeks and usually secures. I hear his voice 
sometimes, but never with anything of a musical 
nature in the utterance. A hollow tree furnishes 
them with an excellent nesting place, but when 
none is convenient they bore a hole deep into the 
bank, making a very safe retreat for their young. 
I am told that when they secure a large fish they 
prepare it for eating by pounding it against the 
trunk of a tree until it is reduced to pulp. I 
never see them taking any pastime so conclude 



BIRD PARADISE 53 

they use their business in such a manner that it 
serves as a sort of vacation. If the streams keep 
open kingfisher stays North well into the winter. 
When he journeys South, however, he usually 
pushes on to South America — returning with the 
first real softening of the spring days. This bird' s 
shape and attire give him very little that is at- 
tractive to look upon. Bright colors and beauty 
of attire are both denied him. He gives no sign, 
however, that he is cognizant of the fact, passing, 
as he does, a very cheery sort of life. 



A pair of flickers were having a merry time on 
my lawn this morning. They seemed to have 
lost their shyness in good part and allowed me to 
come quite near them. They were intent on 
securing a breakfast, still they had time to in- 
dulge in some real flicker jollying. I watched 
them for some time, and while I did not under- 
stand all they said, I caught a part of it. No 
way that I know of that uncovers life anywhere 
only by living it. To know what the flicker says 
one must be what he says. This pair certainly 
said '* Good-morning,'' in their way. I don't 
know that they inquired after the parson's health, 
and yet some of their movements seemed to in- 



54 BIRD PARADISE 

dicate it. The thing, however, in their manner 
that gav e me the most satisfaction was the air of 
true freedom with which they bore themselves. 
The field and the grove, air and water, sunlight 
and darkness, the flicker spirit and all bird spirit 
seem to say, '' They are all mine— -not a thing in 
the wide house of my home that is aught else but 
mine. " Free born, free livers, free in every sense 
that exalts true character. A long line of illus- 
trious ancestors appears in my visitors, and I ex- 
tend to them my heartiest fellowship. 



The recent warm weather opened a wide door 
in the fields and groves. Not that any of the in- 
habitants therein really awakened from their 
sleep, though possibly some of them might have 
done so. But the door was opened and the op- 
portunity given to all the residents to say some- 
thing if the mood was on. I watched the danc- 
ing sunbeams on one of the clear days and surely 
their movements were indicative of a lease of new 
life. The winds gathered their legions and when 
they had once gotten down to their special work 
there were no echoes left to slumber in field or 
grove. Sometimes I half fancy that the echoes 
are living things. Anyway the rollicking winds 



BIRD PARADISE 55 

awaken them and I don't know how anything can 
sleep and awake without being alive. I saw 
some small insects tossing up and down outside 
my study window and very likely the warm sun- 
beams had quickened them into life as they lay 
dormant in the thick mat of grass. What a 
multitude of little fellows are tucked away in the 
great carpet of grass and how nicely they are 
preserved. Someway they die and at the same 
time live. The entire surface of the ground with 
the covering of grass forms Nature's vast refrig- 
erator. For the needs of a great host of crea- 
tures this kind of food is always ready for use. 
The crows revel in the feast and I judge never 
fail to partake when the opportunity offers. 
Dining out is without any question the real forte 
of most of our birds. 



One of my real favorites among the field birds 
is the meadow-lark. He has a way of living 
bird life that recommends him highly. His ar- 
rival from the South in the spring is a sort of 
challenge to his fellow birds, inciting them to 
new endeavor in the affairs of life. Their song is 
given shape in a sort of ringing cheer that seems 
to give the stirring greeting of the meadows 



56 BIRD PARADISE 

themselves. Their method of flight is breezy, 
like their song, and I notice that in graduating 
their families from the home nest they push mat- 
ters in real lark fashion. Very little skill is 
shown in arranging the summer cottage. Some 
small depression in the surface of the meadow is 
selected and given a lining of dried grass. Both 
parent birds join in the nest building and both, 
I think, share in the process of incubation. 
When once the young fellows appear, the old 
birds show a kind of nervous activity quite out of 
keeping with their ordinary life. Almost every 
moment food is brought to the hungry brood and 
no amount, however large, seems to appease in 
the slightest degree the insatiable appetites. 
Among all our birds the young larks seem to 
take up the journey of life with a kind of ^'go-as- 
you-please ' ' character that is most interesting. 
They have a practice of using the hillside as a 
sort of coasting place, making merry in the exer- 
cise like a party of children. Great-hearted, 
genial fellows they are, lovable in every sense of 
the word. 



When preparing these notes I glanced from my 
study window and there in the lawn trees were a 



BIRD PARADISE 57 

number of small birds that I knew from their 
actions belonged to the warbler family. They 
were the first I had seen of the migrants from the 
North. I took my glass and looked them over 
and I soon learned that the brown creeper was 
there and the worm-eating warbler. The young 
of two or three other species were present also, 
but I did not see any of the old birds. The 
warblers are all born acrobats. Of them it can be 
truly said that as they pass through the trees their 
movements are all of the go-as-you-please charac- 
ter. Occasionally they tumble through the limbs, 
as though they had lost their balance, but noth- 
ing of that kind ever appears, I am sure. Even 
as I write the little fellows are doing this very 
thing and the show of pastime which accom- 
panies it determines its meaning. I cannot with- 
hold the questions: ''Just where in the wide 
North did you spend the summer? How far 
north of the Arctic circle did you locate your 
home? Did you in your farthest flight see just 
where the Pole is, or just where it ought to be?" 
The answers I get very likely throw light some- 
where, but not on the way of the inquirer. Not 
yet does the vernacular of the birds find an in- 
terpreter in the counsels of men. Eight here I 
notice a larger bird among the warblers. I am 



58 BIRD PARADISE 

quite sure it is a member of the sparrow family, 
but it passes out to the field before I have a fair 
view of his trim form. Very soon the sparrows 
from the North will appear, adding not a little to 
the attractions of our bird world. 



Most of our birds have now graduated their 
young, leaving the old birds free to roam far and 
wide for the next ten months. Adjourning the 
housekeeping adjourns the song also, no more 
singing until they come on for the season's work 
next spring. As a rule the vacation time is the 
occasion for *' breaking forth into singing,^' but 
it is not so with the birds. They have no use 
for music only when they are putting both hands 
to toil with all their might. I remember seeing 
many of our song birds wintering in Oklahoma, 
each having his own special chirp with him, but 
not a particle of song. It is a marvel how the 
fellows pick it up so easily when they have been 
without it so long. The great singers of the hu- 
man family need to be in daily practice, and a 
silence of ten months would almost destroy voice 
and all use of it. Not so, however, with the 
birds. They pick up the thread right where 
they dropped it and go right on as though they 



BIRD PARADISE 59 

had been in full practice every day. I notice 
that the class of birds that have simply the call 
note keep that practically unchanged throughout 
the year. 



Every morning I have as a most interesting 
guest a large and uncommonly intelligent flicker. 
He sounds his note once or twice from a distance, 
then swings along to the orchard, making his 
best bow from the large tree at the garden gate. I 
give him most cordial greeting and wish I had 
command of the flicker tongue. But what is 
command ? I certainly know some good things 
that he speaks. They come to me freighted with 
a friendliness that I can understand and do 
greatly enjoy. The large table of my lawn is 
always spread and flicker — like the other birds — 
sits right down to his morning meal without 
waiting for any special invitation. I notice that 
his manner of takiug his meals is all his own. 
He puts his long bill right through the table 
spread, down into the soft mold an inch or 
more. Just what he gets or just how it is cooked 
I have no means of knowing. That he smacks 
his lips over the delicate morsels I can attest ; 
also that his appetite is always first-class. One 



6o BIRD PARADISE 

day he brought one of his children with him — 
his oldest son, I fancied — and such a time as he 
had in giving the boy a few lessons in flicker 
housekeeping. I found time to take in the scene 
and do a little hand-clapping over the young fel- 
low's success. Sometimes when I am watching 
one of these family scenes I feel that a little 
wholesome correction would do the youngster 
good, and greatly relieve the mind of the parent 
bird, but they get on with little or no discipline 
and get on well. My visitor spends an hour or 
more with me usually, then hies away to the 
grove on Burritt's Hill, where I presume the 
other members of his family await his coming. 



Sunday was a full day, rain falling steadily 
almost without intermission from sun to sun. 
The thirsty earth drank it with avidity and the 
plants and trees clapped their hands with joy. 
The birds seemed to share in the general out- 
burst of praise. Some of the songs were all the 
better for the rain. The next morning dawned 
bright and fair, all cheery with new life. I was 
out early and more than half fancied that garden, 
lawn and birds were unusually jubilant with 
praise. I put my ear to the service of catching 



BIRD PARADISE 6i 

the sounds that the old brown earth was emitting. 
The response was all aglow with life. Every 
rootlet, part and creature was alert with that 
genial flow of life which never palls on the taste. 
The birds caught the key-note of the refrain and 
I found it not a little difficult to put in a stroke 
of work where all was festal to the eye and ear. 
One robin, I am quite sure, continued his song 
for a full hour, and the English sparrows rivaled 
him in time if not in music. The meadow birds 
in the fields beyond the cemetery joined as one 
in saluting the morning, and even the crows 
seemed to have a little more cheer in their 
solemn notes. Someway the morning was so 
fresh and fair and everything was so in keeping 
with the new day that I was somewhat averse to 
even removing the weeds. Each was a temple 
not made with hands and to destroy such a 
structure is not an easy task. On such a morn- 
ing they stand as perfected praise, and who 
can wantonly put a jarring note into such an 
anthem ? 



I notice that the toads are now on duty in larger 
numbers. I have a notion that some of them 
were late in coming out of their winter quarters. 



62 BIRD PARADISE 

Just how they tell when to wake up I have no 
means of knowing. Very likely all they have 
to do with it is simply to obey the summons 
when it comes. Curious that I rarely see two 
dwelling together in the same house and very 
rarely meet two of the same size. The venerable 
fellows, large in body as well as in number of 
years, I see occasionallyo One resides under the 
woodbine near the barn door, and has all the ap- 
pearance of having numbered a score of years. 
He is chary of speech, and when he uses his voice 
he gives forth a guttural sound that seems with- 
out meaning. His success as a fly catcher is 
pronounced. No one would ever imagine that 
the fellow could make a quick movement by his 
general appearance. The moment, however, he 
sits down — or rather sits up — to one of his daily 
meals he appears in a new role altogether. He 
takes his dinner on the wing, and does it with a 
skill and grace that becomes him handsomely. 
Sometimes I get the idea that when he once be- 
gins to eat he has no conception when to stop. 
So far as I know he has but very little to do be- 
sides eating. If he has any regular work by 
which he earns his daily bread he never has 
given me an inkling of what it is. The little 
house roofed with leaves, just a few feet square, 



BIRD PARADISE 63 

is the whole world to him, and so far as I can see 
it is all he cares for. Toad character has some 
things to recommend, but on the whole is not 
very attractive. 



I have noticed several robins lately that seemed 
in a half-dazed mood. In each case I have found 
the bird near the mountain ash tree where it had 
been feastiug on the berries. Can it be that the 
overeating of the bright red fruit produces a 
kind of intoxication? Or was it an effect of a 
different character ? The way in which the birds 
eat these berries savors of a sort of infatuation. 
When they are ripe a large flock is on duty every 
moment of the day eating with scarcely a particle 
of intermission. I do not know of any other 
creature that uses them for food. The variety of 
food used by birds covers a wide range. I have 
no knowledge of seeds or insects that are unused. 
Unlike the animals, the birds provide no supply 
for the winter months. Their facilities for mov- 
ing from place to place are such that a store of 
food is unnecessary. Even those who remain at 
the North through the winter find sufi&cient to 
supply all their wants without any thought for 
the morrow. What a great full storehouse the 



64 BIRD PARADISE 

bird commissary is ! Wherever the fellow stops 
on his flight there the storehouse is and there the 
food is all prepared for his use. ^^ They toil not, 
neither do they spin/^ but the feast is ever spread 
for them and they are always ready for it. 



I hear occasionally the whistling flight of the 
woodcock. Just at the northern gate of the old 
swamp seems to be a favorite spot for their daily 
gatherings. As they depend largely on the sense 
of touch in selecting their food they can do much 
of their hunting for it in the night. I often see 
in the soft mud where they have been busy prob- 
ing for worms and grubs. The long bill is the 
member used in the search. The end is keenly 
sensitive and the kind of food is determined 
easily by the sense of touch. In my boyhood we 
often saw the fellows early in the morning wing- 
ing their way to the corn-fields, where they pro- 
cured a part of their food. The nestlings, like 
the young of the partridge, find their way out of 
the nest very soon after they are hatched. The 
families are usually large, taxing the parent birds 
heavily in caring for them. The woodcock uses 
two or three call notes, sometimes uttering them 
in succession after the pattern of a song. The 



BIRD PARADISE 65 

nest is not much more than a slight cavity in 
the ground, given perhaps a thin lining of dried 
grass. Like the other mem hex's of the snipe 
family the woodcock is an active stirring bird. 
During his waking hours he keeps busy most of 
the time hunting for food for himself and his 
hungry brood. The young woodcock never seems 
to reach the point in taking food when he acts as 
though he had eaten enough. They are cunning 
little fellows and soon learn to secure food for 
themselves. I think the sportsmen have done 
but little in the way of hunting these birds in our 
hill country. Hence, it is not so difficult to in- 
terview them as it is in many places where they 
make their home. 



The morning after the rain the robins seemed 
to be unusually lively. The air was cool and 
the clouds heavy and dark — not just the condi- 
tions wherein I have found the birds stirring 
early or actively. As I looked out through the 
mists I could see a dozen or more of my red- 
breasted friends thoroughly excited and evidently 
in a state of war that to all appearances meant 
death in the last ditch. At first nothing was 
discovered which gave the least indication what 



66 BIRD PARADISE 

the uproar was about or whether the combatants 
were really arranged on two distinct sides. At 
times two birds would contend vigorously, the 
others looking on quietly or running nervously 
about, then the entire company would rush to- 
gether screaming loudly and striking most vigor- 
ously with bills and wings. They rolled them- 
selves into a ball of feathers so tightly packed 
that they seemed one solid mass. For several 
minutes the battle went on, no one apparently 
hurt and nothing really gained by any of the 
contestants. Finally a truce was agreed upon. 
But the bone of contention, what was it? I could 
not uncover it and I doubt if the birds knew what 
it was. It was a case of the army marching up 
the hill and down again. No one hurt. 



The greater surprise that I received on the 
occasion was the perfect command the students 
had over that in which they had known no real 
experience. When called to tell what they knew, 
each one made an almost perfect success of the 
effort. " Flicker on the Wing " was the subject 
of all the orations of the day. Alpha responded 
to his name, with light step and an apparent 
confidence in himself that fully betokened real 



BIRD PARADISE 67 

success. The first sentence he muttered was a 
bold assertion of winged thought that carried him 
bodily nearly over to the little red schoolhouse. 
Think of it, a complete novice in every sense of 
the word, touching all he was doing, and yet 
doing it with the utmost ease — utterance in word 
and gesture — bird elocution at its best. Number 
two followed, but put his first stroke in the direc- 
tion of the rising sun. Away he soared, astonish- 
ing the whole audience, but himself more than 
all. When he finally paused he found that his 
zeal had carried him to the front door of my 
neighbor's cottage. Time was given him to con- 
tinue when all seemed favorable in his judgment, 
which he did, with renewed success. Number 
three came from the door of the tree temple — 
announced with the loud calls of the entire 
faculty. With just the semblance of a bow he 
threw himself into his part, completing the first 
sentence far down in the park. He spent an hour 
or more in that locality, shouting and clapping 
his hands in true flicker fashion. 



The bobolinks seem to be out in a little more 
than full numbers in the meadows beyond my 
garden. This morning they appeared to be hold- 



68 BIRD PARADISE 

ing a sort of convention — all singing and talking 
at the same time. I could not make out just what 
they were saying, but I was quite sure they were 
doing it well. There is nothing slow about the 
song of the bobolink. It goes with a rush, a great 
outpouring of notes that are no sooner poured out 
than they begin to pour again, the stream rip- 
pling and hurrying all day long. I fancy at 
times they reach out a hand for a little praise 
from the human brother. This very morning one 
came from the field to where I was at work in the 
garden. He circled about, singing as only the 
bobolink can sing — the same song over and over, 
but new every time. He took a high seat — there 
are no low seats among birds — on the old apple 
tree, and such a concert as he put in motion is 
never known anywhere else. A song fellow 
joined him soon, and for five minutes all the gar- 
dening that I did was keeping both ears open to 
a hymn that is America from start to finish. For 
aught the parson knows these fellows have been 
trilling their songs for hundreds of years. How 
much evolution there has been in getting where 
they are I have no means of knowing. They 
have certainly got there, and I have a notion 
there is nothing new to be added to the song. 
What preachers of righteousness they are and 



BIRD PARADISE 69 

how cleanly they hold the truth. There is no 
heresy among the bobolinks. 



I notice that the song of the thrushes is shading 
off quite perceptibly. Like the other song birds 
they have had their carnival of music and are 
now passing to the monotonous chirp which will 
mark their demeanor for the next ten months. 
How do they ever pick up the song again? 
Surely the skill with which they do it is one of the 
wonderful things in mother nature's great house. 
My thrush parishioners journey far away to their 
Southern home. They dwell there for months, 
but never once trill their wonderful song. Jour- 
neying northward in the spring and lo, the old 
song appears — not a note missing, not a strain 
lost. Young and old alike come to the house- 
keeping of a brief two months simply bubbling 
over with song. Why it is so I cannot tell — the 
fact is patent, but its best telling abounds in mys- 
tery. There is no other place that the thrush 
gives me quite so much as he does in the glades 
of Bird Paradise. When the song rises from the 
lower part of the glen and comes wandering up 
the defile I fancy it gathers something from 
everything as it passes. By the time it reaches me 



70 BIRD PARADISE 



it has levied tribute upon trees and brook, shrubs 
and flowers — all the wealth of the gorge. It has 
multiplied itself a hundred times, and I bow to 
the wizard bird that fills me with the inspiration 
of the song of songs. 



On the Sauquoit road, half a mile from our vil- 
lage, is the crossing between the two swamps. 
Logs are found here which tradition says were 
put in place by a division of Sullivan's army 
during his celebrated march through the Iroquois 
country. Among the willows at the roadside a 
pair of catbirds build their nest every season. 
To look at, the same birds, the same nest, the 
same song make up the household and its work 
each year. The catbird gets his name from one 
of the calls he uses, which sounds at a little dis- 
tance like the mewing of a half-grown kitten. 
Their success in nest construction is only a partial 
one, although it serves all the needs of the birds. 
As a singer the catbird ranks high. His penchant 
for trilling the songs of other birds is well known. 
He gives what seem to be almost the precise notes 
of several of his fellow birds. I wonder some- 
times whether it be a song adopted by the bird 
or his own in a special manner, none of it bor- 



BIRD PARADISE 71 

rowed. The movement of the catbird bears the 
stamp of a sly, shrewd character, though I know 
of nothing standing against him that is not to his 
credit. As I see him he is nearly always gliding 
around among the willows, so much so that he 
might appropriately take the name of willow bird. 
I have seen the catbird several times in the 
hedges and thickets in Utica. Like some other 
of our wood birds he is becoming more cosmo- 
politan in his habits every year. 



Nearly all our birds are now here. Another 
week will bring the cuckoo, which completes the 
list. I notice that the bobolinks and orioles seem 
to be on duty in unusual numbers. I hear their 
songs everywhere in the trees and fields, full and 
cheery as they should be in the day-dawn of the 
spring time. Curious, and ever more curious, to 
me is their method of dropping the song when the 
nesting season is over, leaving it entirely unused 
for three-quarters of the year, then picking it up, 
every note in place, and as musical as though they 
had been daily practicing all the time. Someway 
in this particular they have gotten well ahead of 
the human brother. Curious, too, that among the 
birds the gentlemen do all the singing. The 



72 BIRD PARADISE 

ladies of the house have a cold note or two, but 
no song. It occurs to me that it would be an ad- 
mirable scheme if the females could put the song 
into shape and use it through the long vacation. 
But it is not for me to regulate their matters. 
Among their own affairs their knowledge of what 
is best for them is far in advance of any that the 
parson has, and their wisdom is to use the best 
they can command. 



Bobolinks reached us on the 12th of May. 
Here and there the bird had been seen two or 
three days before, but the full company did not 
appear until the 12th. I was out in my garden 
early, just in time to welcome the advance guard 
as they alighted from their aerial trolley car. 
Their salutation to the parson was given in 
song, every one apparently doing his best in mak- 
ing the greeting. What an outburst of rattling 
notes the song is ! I wonder how the fellow ever 
gets it into shape twice alike. But he does, and 
it certainly, in some respects, has no rival among 
bird songs. I notice that the bird's location 
when singing has something to do with the finish 
of the song. When he sends forth the music on 
the wing he often puts in a note or two that do 



BIRD PARADISE 73 

not appear at other times. After he has settled 
down in the grass he frequently indulges in a 
chuckle that gives the song a very pleasant varia- 
tion. From the cozy perch in the top of an old 
apple tree there is really a little apple blossom 
melody indulged in that one can easily imagine is 
the carol of the tree itself as it bursts into bloom. 
When the females arrive at the Northern home 
the song sparkles with new life. In fact the 
cheery fellow seems to meet each new turn of life 
with a new turn of bobolink speech that fits the 
case exactly. No bird of my acquaintance has 
more to say than bobolink or can say it any 
better. 



During my stroll I came upon a family of blue- 
birds — two old birds and four young ones in the 
family. When I first saw them they were seated 
on the telephone wires, and I fancied a mild 
lecture was being given by the mother of the 
household. No other lecture is ever given by 
bluebird. If he knows how to employ his tongue 
in scolding or raillery, he never has given the 
parson any sign of it. Whether he turns away 
wrath or not I do not know, but this is true of him : 
he never deals in any reply but the soft answer. 



74 BIRD PARADISE 

The youDg fellows of this family were active and 
evidently were fast learning the mysteries of bird 
life. I have a notion that the families of this 
species of birds remain together longer than those 
of their fellow birds. The number that I usually 
see together are about the measure of a single 
household. I am a little at a loss to determine 
just what this bird uses for food. I rarely ever 
see him using anything — in fact it is the only bird 
that seems to get on without a large commissary. 
The family I saw kept company with me, for 
quite a distance, then balanced away to the far 
side of the adjacent pasture. What a mellow 
richness there is in their song. It is as Bur- 
roughs says, *' purity in its completest sense.'' 
He says also that it is the bird of nature, being 
in color ' ^ sky blue above, and earth brown be- 
low," adding, '^ that his appearance in the spring 
denotes that the war between sky and earth is 
ended, in him the celestial and terrestrial striking 
hands and becoming fast friends." 



I hear the call of the bobolink from high in the 
air. The flocks are passing daily and the wonder 
is where so many come from. They are all of one 
color — a sort of olive green — and seem to be 



BIRD PARADISE 75 

animated by the common spirit of getting some- 
where j ust as soon as possible. Why they should 
start on their Southern journey so early in the 
season is a secret which they keep to themselves. 
Food is abundant and the weather pleasant, still 
at such a time every season they get upon the 
wing for their extensive travels. I have a notion 
that they take their time in the passage, being 
several days reaching their first stopping place in 
Pennsylvania. Of course they have no idea of 
what is in store for them as they gather the fruits 
of their extensive trip. Living on the choicest 
viands of the land they soon become candidates 
for the epicure's table. I like the cheery way 
with which the bobolinks say their ^' good-bye.'^ 
Vacation with the birds means a long season of 
rollicking life with hardly a flaw in the entire 
round of festivities. 

Several of the robins' nests in my lawn trees now 
shelter the young birds. I notice that with the 
advent of the little fellows the care and concern 
of the old birds is greatly increased. It is aston- 
ishing what an amount of food a nest of young 
birds will consume in one day. Their capacity 
for food seems to be unlimited. They feast all 
day long, and then wear the air of hungry crea- 



76 BIRD PARADISE 

tures. I never have known them to refuse food. 
If there were any regular meals then it could be 
truly said of them that their eating between meals 
fills every particle of space from feast to feast. 
^^ All the time at it,'' was what a friend of mine 
said when the process of feeding for the first time 
was brought to his attention. " Is it a leaf in the 
book of nature which we have not yet quite 
understood or are the birds blundering workmen 
—building less wisely than they know ? " The 
answer seems to take this form : These denizens 
of the air eat, drink, sleep and be merry, escap- 
ing all sickness, ignoring all doctors, and dying 
of old age if they have half a chance. One thing 
can be said of the food that it rarely ever is of 
the kind that pampers the appetite. Earth- 
worms, which constitute the daily bread of the 
young robins, so far as I know, are not a rich 
viand. Possibly the more they eat of these 
wriggling fellows, the more they want. If adopt- 
ing their style of eating involves the necessity of 
adopting their kind of food, why of course none 
of us would care to dine with the robins. 



I saw this morning the largest flock of crow 
blackbirds, or grackle, that I have seen in many 



BIRD PARADISE -jj 

years. They located in the large maples just 
north of the church, and spent several minutes 
in a sort of conclave which was lively, and 
which possibly the birds understood. I was 
curious to know the number of black fellows in 
the party and counted them ofi' until the record 
read 135. Their free and easy way of doing 
things was most noticeable. I could not discover 
that the presiding officer, if there was one, had 
the least authority in the assembly. They all 
talked at the same time and apparently under- 
stood one another. The language they used is 
one of the primitive tongues that I suppose has 
been in vogue without any perceptible change 
for hundreds of years. The smooth flowing song 
that followed seemed unusually full of the softer 
notes. I suppose the concert was a succession 
of set pieces, with their accompanying encores, 
prima donnas having to do with them, and stars 
also of the other sex. I watched them for some 
little time, thinking, perhaps, there might be a 
clue uncovered somewhere by which I could 
divine the real object that called so many of the 
dusky fellows together. I fancied half a dozen 
good reasons for their action, but had no way of 
determining whether any one of them had the 
slightest application to the case in hand. Off 



78 BIRD PARADISE 

they all went finally to the swamp, where I heard 
them still later in the day telling their blackbird 
story with the same fervor as when I first saw 
them early in the day. 



At five o'clock this morning I stood in my 
orchard and yielded a listening ear to the con- 
cert of the birds. The singers were everywhere, 
on all sides of the place where I was standing. 
The air was clear and warm, and the sun just 
lifting its broad face above the horizon. I was 
curious to know how many of the different 
species were lifting their voices in common on the 
occasion. I jotted down the names, and here 
they are : Eobins, grackle, flickers, orioles, 
hawks, red-headed woodpeckers, marsh spar- 
rows, crows, starlings, warblers, swallows, 
meadow-larks, pewees, tree sparrows, vireos, 
English sparrows, wrens, vesper sparrow, bob- 
olinks, purple-crowned sparrows, chimney-swifts, 
twenty-one in all — a very fair showing for such 
an early hour, and a very fair concert. Curious 
how this morning festival of song is rendered 
daily, and the listener of even the most critical 
taste never detects any discord in the perform- 
ance ! The fact is, there are no discords in 



BIRD PARADISE 79 

nature ! When discord enters, nature steps out. 
The birds lift up their voices together, and, 
someway, they all seem to harmonize — no break 
in the great anthem from first to last. While 
something of this festival can be enjoyed in the 
city and larger villages, the beauty and the glory 
of it are only found in the open country. To get 
its inspiration as often as possible is a duty that 
glows with the privilege of new life. 



All of the first and second quotas of spring 
birds are now here. The advanced guard con- 
sists of robins, bluebirds, blackbirds and spar- 
rows. Next come the larks, flickers and two or 
three species of the sparrows. Then follow the 
wood birds, red-headed woodpeckers, swallows, 
orioles, bobolinks, and last of all the cuckoo. 
How the fellows shape their coming to suit the 
weather and the supply of food is outside of my 
knowledge. Just now all that are here are get- 
ting their full amount of regular food, and seem 
to be entirely at home. Curious how they ap- 
pear to be entirely at home anywhere that they 
happen to be. True, they form attachments for 
certain localities, and find their way there with 
a sagacity that is simply wonderful. Still in 



8o BIRD PARADISE 

their yearly wanderings they give each locality 
where they tarry enough of their attention, so 
that it really appears as though they regarded it 
with a homelike feeling. All the Northern birds 
that I saw wintering in Oklahoma seemed en- 
tirely contented and happy. I apprehend that 
when they are once entered upon their vacation 
any place where they are is the spot where they 
like to be. Plenty of good food, with fairly 
comfortable quarters, gives most of our birds a 
homelike feeling. 



All the members of the swallow family seem 
to be masters of the science and beauty of flight. 
Each species illustrates movements that it has in 
common with all the others, and each excels in 
some special grace. The eave swallow is par- 
ticularly graceful in some of its upward curves — 
a trait of character gradually attained, doubt- 
less, from the long practice of moving in that 
manner, as they leave their nests under the eaves 
of the barn. A colony of these fellows practice 
a very pleasant kind of social bird life. The 
nests are placed on some slight projection, shel- 
tered by the overhanging roof, and are very good 
examples of the skill of birds having for their 



BIRD PARADISE 8i 

material the mud of the roadside. They seem to 
be quite firm aud with thorough repairing are 
used year after year. Some of them have pas- 
sageways like the ueck of a bottle, and frequently 
at each opening may be seen the heads of the 
parent birds quietly surveying the outside world. 
The young of the swallow family must be adepts 
in the use of their wings, for I never have seen 
them tumbling about half fledged. I fancy they 
keep close within the home nest until they are 
quite fully grown, then flight is a sort of second 
nature to them. I have no way of computing 
the number of insects a swallow secures as he 
goes to and fro through the day, but it must be 
a large number. I hear the little bills snap 
sharply, and know that each stroke is the full 
end of a fly^s career. Multiplying swallows are 
carrying large destruction into the crowded 
ranks of the great fly host. 



Among my parishioners none ranks higher in 
my regard than the wide-awake flicker. His 
doing, I am sure, is always up to the full mark 
of the Scriptural injunction, **With all his 
might." Six years ago a pair of them located 
their summer home in one of my lawn maples. 



82 BIRD PARADISE 

Tliey had some difficulties to surmount iii getting 
their house in order, and for a time I was quite 
doubtful about their success in the enterprise. 
The youngsters graduated in due time, and I 
concluded that some of them would occupy the 
old homestead every season. In a certain way 
they have. Each spring they come to the old 
place, and for several days hold a sort of bird car- 
nival. I get the notion each time that it is a kind 
of house-warming given by the pair that have 
just set up housekeeping in the old home. Each 
time, however, I have been mistaken. Since that 
first season there has been the annual gathering 
at the old hearthstone, any amount of flicker fun 
and talk but no family life has come from it. 
As I write this I glance from my study window, 
and there the birds are busy with their regular 
spring orgies. I say orgies, for the word seems 
to express exactly what they are doing. Half 
an hour ago they came balancing down from 
Burritt's Hill, six of them in all, and their rol- 
licking call has been the very pulse beat of the 
village air ever since. They dart about among 
the trees apparently as full of fun as a party of 
boys. Up the trunks of the maples they scramble, 
chasing each other around the great limbs, ever 
on the move. If they have looked in at the old 



BIRD PARADISE 83 

home once they have a dozen times. About the 
only language they use is the word flicker, pro- 
nounced with a great variety of inflections. 



Only one place that I know of about here 
where the eave swallow nests. Under the eaves 
of the barn on the old Osborn place near Day- 
tonville I counted forty nests last year. In my 
boyhood they made their homes every year on 
several different farms in this locality. The 
largest number I ever saw in any one place was 
at the barn of Harvey Head on the Cassville 
road. I have forgotten the number of nests he 
used to report but I remember the swallows were 
about the building in great numbers. Mr. Head 
gave them large welcome and they repaid it in 
the destruction of thousands of insects. Barns, 
as they are now built, furnish but little oppor- 
tunity for the swallow to place his nest securely. 
The flight of this bird is true to all the traditions 
of his large family. His movement is easy and 
graceful and from anything I can discover may 
be continued almost indefinitely without any ap- 
parent weariness. The nests are curious pockets 
built of mud with short necks through which the 
bird reaches the inner parts of the house. Some 



84 BIRD PARADISE 

writers classify this and the cliff or bank swallow 
as one species. As they pass in flight there 
seems to be no perceptible difference in shape or 
color. The song is a slight twitter usually given 
when on the wing. 



I received a curious invitation from my flicker 
friends last week — at least, so it seemed to me. 
On Friday morning the town crier of this small 
city went to and fro in my lawn trees proclaim- 
ing most vigorously some event of great impor- 
tance. I went out to the church steps and was 
hardly more than nicely fixed in my favorite 
seat when the whole matter was made clear. It 
was commencement week in the flicker university 
and the faculty and entire body of students were 
ready to give the parson special welcome to all 
the exercises. They did give the welcome and I 
accepted the greeting with both hands and all 
my heart. The day was ideal and I soon got the 
notion that the entire affair was of great moment 
to all concerned. The whole school of flickers 
were graduating — each valedictorian of his class. 
The great maple front of the church, long years 
in building, was the temple of their lifelong 
instruction. What to say and do on the great 



BIRD PARADISE 85 

occasion was all nicely pictui-ed out by the two 
professors — faculty of the institution. The lawn 
of the rectory and church was the broad stage 
whereon the entire exercises were conducted. 
Just what was said as the students were called 
to take their parts I could not quite divine. The 
outcome, however, was the key to all that fol- 
lowed. The four students, each in his tui*n, 
stepped boldly out and in the "born anew" of 
the moment went cheerily forward to the first full 
sweep of flicker life. 



The bobolink trills his song now only occa- 
sionally. Its bubbling over joy has sensibly 
changed into a kind of bird music that has a 
good many slow and heavy notes. Curious that 
when the fellow's work and care are put aside 
the best part of him should go with them. I 
wonder if there be any scheme that could be put 
into operation whereby we might preserve not 
only this bird^s song, but the songs of all birds, 
through the vacation season. We need a Bur- 
bank to work in this direction, and it may not 
be a fruitless venture. The bird uses his short 
note or chirp the whole year through, and why 
should he not use his song? I often ask myself 



86 BIRD PARADISE 

the questions, From what source did the bobo- 
link derive his song, and how does he keep the 
delicious medley in shape so handsomely? It 
rattles off a thousand times or more during the 
song season with never a note seemingly missing. 
I have tried again and again to reduce the refrain 
to a word form but never have made any large 
success of the effort. About the first of August 
the song ceases altogether. A month is then 
given to a kind of wild, free bird play. Then 
comes the first stroke of migration, ending with 
a change of name to Pennsylvania reed bird. 
About the last of September he wings his way 
still farther southward, again receiving a new 
name, that of rice bird. In December he reaches 
the shores of the Gulf, and a little later floats 
across to the wilds of South America where he 
spends the remaining winter months. 



One of our bright colored wood songsters bears 
the name of indigo bird, or woodfinch. An- 
other name he sometimes receives is that of blue- 
finch. He is also called the indigo bunting. 
He finds his way to the Northern home about the 
middle of May, and while he is not a great singer 
he adds a very pleasing melody to the forest 



BIRD PARADISE 87 

choir. He belongs to the large sparrow family 
and the keen instincts of his race help him 
wonderfully in running the gauntlet of his many 
enemies. They are not very plentiful, for I 
rarely ever see more than a single pair in any one 
season. I find them often in company with the 
rose-breasted grosbeak, so I conclude they are 
fast friends. A favorite resort for this bird is a 
clearing near the wood, partly grown up with 
bushes. I notice that his perch for singing is 
some small tree in the clearing, where, seated on 
the topmost bough, he trills a song that ranks 
well with those of his fellow birds. I never have 
known any blemishes on his character. On the 
contrary he has a very clean record. Of course 
he meets with the vicissitudes that all bright 
colored birds meet with. His brilliant hue be- 
trays his hiding place, and I suppose that is one 
reason why his family numbers so few members. 
In my boyhood they frequently came into the 
orchard of the old homestead, and we saw several 
pair each season. The dense wood, however, is 
the fellow's place of greater safety and he rarely 
ventures beyond its bounds. 

This week brought the birds in full numbers. 
I have already seen five or six different species. 



88 BIRD PARADISE 

The weather has not been perfect, but it seems to 
make no difference with the birds. They go 
about with their usual spirit, apparently as con- 
tent with the storm as with the sunshine. Of the 
early comers the robin is the most active. Just 
how he keeps up his natural motion all day long 
is a problem to the parson. He does it, how- 
ever, and for anything I can see ^* brings back at 
eve, immaculate, the manners of the morn.'^ I 
have been wondering a little how much truth 
there is in the saying that the male birds are the 
first to arrive in the Northern haunts. I am quite 
sure that the two sexes appeared here together this 
year. Perhaps it is an off year, or it may be that 
the birds are off. Why should they not be, now 
and then ? They have a right to make mistakes, 
and very likely make them. As I write half a 
dozen birds are rollicking on my lawn, giving 
every sign of being perfectly happy. The earth- 
worms seem to be ready for them, also the nicely 
prepared insects that have lain all winter in the 
grass. What a table is ready for them and how 
they partake of its bounty, never in the slightest 
degree acting as though they were not sure of 
their next meal. Eobin faith has a good deal of 
that character which secures the " Be it unto you 
even as thou wilt." 



BIRD PARADISE 89 



A red squirrel invaded the precincts of one of 
my robin homes and no doubt got some new ideas 
touching robin hospitality. I was sitting on the 
porch at the time and my first knowledge of the 
adventure was a great fluttering noise in one of 
the maples. Almost immediately this was fol- 
lowed by Mr. Squirrel's advent, every movement 
he made fairly crowded with hurry. Two robins 
were waiting upon him and they attended to all 
the details of the matter with scrupulous care. 
As he tumbled from the tree and struck the 
ground one of the birds struck him. He rolled 
over two or three times, then tried the tree again. 
Here both robins met him and for a few moments 
the mixture of birds and squirrel was much closer 
than the four-footed fellow had any taste for. 
This time he sprang far out on to the lawn and 
made his way rapidly to his home in one of the 
large trees on the opposite side of the church. I 
rather enjoyed squirrel's discomfiture for I know 
he has ruined more than one bird home in my 
lawn trees this season. 



Among my bird visitors this week was an entire 
family of orioles. They came into the lawn 



90 BIRD PARADISE 

maples very quietly, but they were no sooner 
seated in the easy chairs of the branches than 
they began to call loudly for the daily bread. 
The old birds responded quickly to the call and 
the more they responded the more there was of 
the call. Orioles are true to their kind in giving 
place to hunger that never seems to be appeased. 
Bird hunger is a commodity that is always kept 
in store and is always storing up the more — 
never by any manner of means crying out enough. 
I was hardly aware of orioles' value as a farm 
helper, until I saw their work in supplying this 
family with food. The old birds were busy every 
moment, and I should conclude used in their 
feasting almost every kind of bug, grub and in- 
sect that we have in our lawns and gardens. I 
was quite willing to contribute every squash bug 
I had to the feast, and the orioles were quite will- 
ing to take them. They caught many insects on 
the wing, in fact levied on all the small creatures 
in the trees or on the ground and kept it up 
steadily during the hour they stayed with me. 
The pleasant song of the bird had been laid aside, 
old and young using the same call note. An- 
other week and the family life will cease, not 
to be known again until an entire year has 
passed. 




^^'ARBLER Retreat 



BIRD PARADISE 91 



I conclude from what I see at the present time 
that there are at least a dozen ur fifteen robins' 
nests in process of construction here in our vil- 
lage. There is no lack of material and certainly 
the business is being prosecuted with commenda- 
ble zeal. Mud and dry grass are the materials 
used, and surely when one considers the charac- 
ter of the things put into the building it is quite 
apparent that robin makes a large success of the 
work. The heavy winds that we have had this 
season have interfered somewhat seriously with 
the birds^ building projects. I found on my lawn 
last week a nest nearly completed. It had been 
blown from the swinging limb, the owner losing 
both time and work in the accident. Someway 
the fellows tide over an experience of this char- 
acter without any serious loss. In a week's time 
doubtless the wreck of the accident will all be 
cleared away and a new house put into place. I 
have seen the English sparrow play a very shrewd 
trick upon the robin when he is busy with his 
nest building. The other day the mother bird 
had just filled her bill with a tuft of dried grass 
when a sparrow flew and snatched it away, leav- 
ing robin an astonished and apparently disgusted 
bird. I have seen the sparrows snatch food in 



92 BIRD PARADISE 

the same way, robin submitting to the indignity 
with no appearance of protest. 



My woodchuck parishioners have passed their 
quiet winter and are now taking up the duties of 
the rapidly advancing spring. What a curious 
scheme it is that this little animal employs to tide 
over the winter's storm and cold. Last fall all 
the woodchuck residents of my parish folded their 
hands and went to sleep in their burrows, no eat- 
ing or drinking known by them until within the 
last week. I have known them to pass to the 
long sleep when the weather was warm and pleas- 
ant and food plentiful. Then I have known 
them to put aside the sleep in February, when 
the frost and cold were everywhere in our 
Northland. Once I was passing in the ravine 
near the Bartlett woods in February. The 
snow had drifted in until the bank on the 
west side was some twelve or fifteen feet deep. 
A woodchuck had dug through the snow and 
when I looked into the burrow he was sitting on 
the threshold of his earth cabin, evidently in a 
great quandary as to what was best for him to do 
next. I kept a little watch of the fellow and I 
found as the days passed he got along very com- 



BIRD PARADISE 93 

fortably. Of course his supply of food was lim- 
ited but he found enough to keep the fires of life 
burning brightly, and so far as I could see, 
passed the hours of his somewhat narrow life 
quite pleasantly. A little later in the season a 
family of youngsters gladdened by their presence 
the rustic home. I found not a little recreation 
in watching them as they passed through the dif- 
ferent stages of woodchuck life. Curious that in 
their small world they are beset with enemies on 
every side. Hawks and foxes are on the watch 
for them, and I am told, though I have never 
seen it, that the old male members of the tribe 
appropriate them in a cannibal way. ' ' The price 
of liberty, even among the animals, is eternal 
vigilance. " 

My toad parishioners interview me now almost 
daily. When I find them in the grass they seem 
in a pleasant mood and, so far as I understand, 
say pleasant things. When my hoe or spade 
breaks into their snug winter quarters, giving 
them an unceremonious tumble out into the light, 
they wiuk some and blink some, and I am quite 
sure express themselves in as forcible a manner 
as the toad ever employs. I notice that they seem 
in fine heart as the spring opens. 



94 BIRD PARADISE 

Wonderful how they pass through the winter 
months and apparently make some healthy 
growth. I never have been able to discover the 
slightest indication that they enjoy social con- 
verse with their fellows. All my toad tenants 
live a hermit life, and they secure the character 
which that kind of living gives. They have a 
taste for the flies and bugs which infest a garden, 
and I encourage all their forays into my small 
realm. 

It is surprising how expert they are in catching 
flies. It is about the only quick motion they 
make, and the only member they use in perform- 
ing the feat is their long, flexible tongue. Let 
the fly pass within striking distance and the stroke 
comes — a flash of red, which surely reaches the 
game every time. In a stage ranch in Oklahoma 
I saw the feat performed by a large toad again 
and again. I was sitting in the old cabin par- 
taking of a frugal lunch w^hen this huge toad 
came out of his lair and showed me how he se- 
cured his lunch. The flies were present in full 
force — clouds of them. All the fellow had to do 
was to keep his tongue flashing — a fly, and I 
sometimes thought two, secured every time. He 
spent what seemed to him a very agreeable half 
hour, and it was a revelation to the parson, — the 



BIRD PARADISE 95 

number of flies one toad can devour in a single 
meal. 

Occasioually I go down to the meadow and deep 
tangled wildwood just as the last doors of day are 
closiug for the night. The process of closiug the 
doors is always interestiDg, and I never have 
known two of these occasious j ust exactly alike. 
Last evening I tarried a few minutes just beyond 
the confines of "God's Acre," the halo of dark- 
ness clothing all things in its restful sphere. So 
many friends have hung away the worn garments 
of time in the little wardrobe near the church that 
I love to tarry there, renewing life in the sacred 
influences of " Auld Lang Syne." How delight- 
ful at such a place and time to have a little bevy 
of vesper sparrows shape a requiem of the day 
that seemed to be a real foretaste of " standing 
ever in the light." Vespers' song holds some 
things that are common to all the sparrows. But 
just as clearly it is guardian of many strains that 
no other bird commands. It was fully dark when 
this experience came to me, and at least five of 
the birds were opening their hearts in the song. 
Without the slightest stroke of effort the song 
came to me clothed in the mantle of praise. The 
voice of the meadow, the wider voice of the stars, 



96 BIRD PARADISE 

the wondrous harmony of all space, ah, the spar- 
rows, out of their simple, pure, gracious hearts, 
shaped it all into a vision— day born of night — 
the night of the silent city where I stood, passing 
surely to the Master's broad, open day of '^Come 
again. ' ' The song ceased, darkness had its place, 
and I came home from the scene, heart all aglow 
with the blessed inspiration of sparrow's sermon 
on the mount. 



In some ways the thrush is the bird of promi- 
nence among our wood songsters. He comes and 
goes in a quiet way, in fact so quiet that I never 
have been able to discover him in the act itself. 
The thrush corner in Bird Paradise is tenantless 
or it is given a resident and no one but the bird 
itself knows when or how. Last week I knocked 
at the door of the corner named above, and my 
friend was there. A day or two before he was 
not there and no sign of his coming was visible 
anywhere. I suppose that if I had been there 
early in the morning, I might have seen the birds 
arriving by the night train on their elevated road. 
The thrush usually appears when the leaves are 
about half out. This year, however, he has been 
a little ahead of time. The marvel is that he ar- 



BIRD PARADISE 97 

rives or leaves his Northern haunts anywhere 
near the right time. Someway, however, he 
does it and makes little or no mistake. I under- 
stand that they pass the winter well down in the 
Gulf states, getting entirely away from the snow 
and cold. I never have known one to stay here 
through the winter, as some of our other birds oc- 
casionally do. I conclude from this fact that the 
fellow has no resources in case he is left stranded 
in his Northern home. Even in the summer he 
seems at times in a sort of quandary as to what is 
the best thing for him to do. 



Whoever writes, or attempts to write, the story 
of the bobolink will find a task on his hands that 
never can be quite all told. I have known the 
fellow nearly seventy years and each successive 
season he has brought something new to be 
recorded. This year he postponed his coming a 
little later than usual, but it was all the same to 
the rollicking fellow. He came with the genuine 
bobolink flourish of trumpets, not a note missing 
in his cheery song. It may have been that his 
trolley line was a little out of order or something 
may have miscarried in his calculations, for he 
arrived in our hill country fully an hour after 



98 BIRD PARADISE 

daylight. The regular hour as I have observed 
him year after year is just at break of day. The 
call is sounded from high in the air, and a few 
minutes later I see the fellows dropping down a 
sort of mythical stairway, swaying back and forth 
as they descend. After their long flight — per- 
haps through the entire night — I look for weari- 
ness, but nothing of the kind appears. They 
seem as fresh as though the night had been spent 
in sleep rather than in flight. I have a notion 
that the flight of birds is restful to them rather 
than a burden. It is native air and native effort, 
both stimulating— rarely ever a task. 

It is but seldom that the flicker comes into my 
lawn and makes himself entirely at home. When 
he does, he recommends himself as one of my 
most interesting bird parishioners. The other 
day I noticed that there was considerable excite- 
ment among the robins. They flew to and fro, 
giving their loud sharp cry, and seemed possessed 
of the idea that their homes were invaded by 
some enemy. I looked around for the cause of 
the extra excitement, and finally discovered that 
a flicker had come in upon the lawn and was busy 
satisfying what appeared to be a pretty large ap- 
petite. He had selected a place only a few teet 



BIRD PARADISE 99 

from my study window and I had an excellent 
opportunity of viewing the entire process at close 
range. The long bill was thrust down into the 
ground and kept in constant motion. I soon 
saw that he depended upon the sense of touch in 
securing his food. Evidently any resident of the 
earth mansion that he came into contact with 
furnished one of the viands of the feast. While 
he was busy at his meal, one of the robins flew 
full tilt against him, but without diverting 
flicker's attention in the slightest degree from the 
special object he had in view. I doubt if the at- 
tacks of other birds have any effect on flicker^ s 
course. The even tenor of his way is about 
where he keeps, but what may happen. I never 
see him long at a time without his showing that 
he has a real and large sense of humor. At 
least, so his way of doing seems to me. I think 
he knows that he is always welcome to my small 
domain. 

Last evening I was quite sure I heard the spring 
note of one of the early birds among the frogs. 
It came up from the marsh beyond the cemetery, 
and was most decidedly a genuine call of the 
season. What a curious way the frogs have of 
launching the boat in which they sail the sea of 



loo BIRD PARADISE 

life. In fact, I know of uo forward movement 
anywhere that is anything else but curious. 
Three families of the frogs — counting the toads as 
one — begin their career in the shifting house of 
the water. I can understand the process of get- 
ting the eggs into the liquid incubator, but how 
hatching is brought about with all certainty lies 
wholly out of my sphere of knowledge. I am 
quite sure every egg hatches and occasionally I 
get the notion that some of them hatch twice. 
Stranger, however, than all else are the transfor- 
mations that take place ere the young fellows 
graduate as full-fledged adults in their respective 
clans. Not the slightest resemblance exists in 
form between the young and old of these curious 
creatures. But somebody cares for them and they 
come safely through all their perils and trials. 
Once or twice I have met with the young toads, 
when they were moving from the watery home. 
Hundreds were in the throng, all of them eager to 
get somewhere on the solid land. I give them 
hearty welcome to my lawn and garden, know- 
ing that their work among the insects is of large 
value to tillers of the soil. 

Years ago, one of our most common birds bore 
the name of cow-bunting. They belonged to the 



BIRD PARADISE loi 

blackbird family and secured their full name 
through a habit they had of gathering in small 
flocks around the cows in the pasture. The ob- 
ject of their friendship for the cows was the 
Increased opportunity it gave them of securing 
their accustomed food. I have seen them often 
on the old farm seated on the cows' backs — the 
animals evidently enjoying their bird guests' 
comj)any. Among our many birds the cow- 
buntings are the only species that take no part 
in rearing their young. They build no nests, 
never pair like other birds, have no nuptial song, 
in short, so live that they throw aside everything 
that savors of the domestic life. I am sure such 
a course gives a peculiar kind of character that 
has but little in it that is attractive. Just how 
these fellows moored their craft at such an an- 
chorage I do not know. Neither do I know how 
extensively it is practiced. I never have seen a 
nest built by the cow-bunting, but I have seen 
their eggs deposited in the nests of other birds, 
always, I believe, in those of smaller size, a 
scheme that shows some little sign of thoughtful - 
ness. I am told that the yellow warbler on find- 
ing the egg deposited in its nest will build a 
new bottom, thus defeating the cowbird's plan. 
Some one states that he has seen two of these 



I02 BIRD PARADISE 

guards interposed iu the same iiest. If it be not 
reason, what is it ? 



I do not recall a year when the wealth of robin 
life was so pronounced as it is this spring. They 
have come in large numbers and almost as soon 
as they arrive they take up the duties of house- 
keeping. Some writers say that the male birds 
arrive first, the females following in three or four 
days. This year, however, the birds seemed to 
have been paired when they came. I suppose 
that when the spring quota of birds is large it is 
good evidence that all, or nearly all, of the biids 
reared in this section last year have come back 
to the old haunts. Sometimes all the birds of a 
locality perish one way and another during the 
winter migration. It usually takes three or four 
years to restore the loss. Just here I notice from 
my study window a pair of red-breasted fellows 
putting grass and mud into place, shaping one 
of their summer cottages. Both birds work at it 
and both seem equally skilful. When they are 
nest building I have a notion that they spend but 
little time seekiog the daily bread. It is all there 
in the brown earth, suited exactly to their taste, 
but they seem to have no time or inclination to 



BIRD PARADISE 103 

seek it A little later in the season, however, 
they balance the books completely, scarcely doing 
anything else but eat. 



The dwellers on my small domain show many 
traits of character that seem closely allied with 
those of human nature. Each species of birds 
conducts its affairs as though the title to the 
entire lawn and garden was vested in that single 
species. Of course such a condition is sure to 
provoke somebody and that somebody is sure 
to resent all such provoking. The battle spirit, 
I notice, is fanned into a brighter flame just after 
the young birds have left the nest. This morn- 
iug a mother robin was putting forth large effort 
to secure a miller that had strayed upon the 
lawn. Catchiug iusects on the wing is not robin's 
forte and yet he acts sometimes as though he was 
not at all conscious of the fact. After quite a 
little time of strenuous effort he managed to 
secure the prize. While he was busy I noticed 
an English sparrow equally busy in watching 
him. Hardly had the first motion in the way of 
dissecting the creature been made ere the spar- 
row by a sudden movement snatched the prize 
and darted away with it. Robin was too much 



I04 BIRD PARADISE 

astonislied to do anything but submit to the 
affront with what grace he could command. The 
English sparrow is given to these shrewd meth- 
ods of replenishing his larder and, of course, the 
other birds do not love to have it so, 

I notice that during the dry weather the little 
red ants that bore holes and build houses in the 
hard trodden path are on duty, apparently, night 
and day. I see them everywhere and I conclude 
that almost any place where they can find footing 
in the hard earth will furnish them with the 
requisites of what they call home. Passing along 
the streets of New Hartford last week, I saw in 
the hard path the little circles of red earth in 
the centre of which appeared the open door with 
the stream of ants going in and out. Later in 
the day, in the city of Utica, I saw the little fel- 
lows on duty — putting the doors of their mansions 
into the seams of the great flagging stones. Hun- 
dreds of them are trodden on and killed every 
day, but someway they keep their numbers 
good. Of course in the city their supply of food 
is much greater than in the country, and in the 
main their home under the large stones is a safe 
and roomy one. I am at a loss in determining 
how these minute creatures can work their way 



BIRD PARADISE 105 

down into the hard earth, building houses there 
that to them are abodes of light and cheer. The 
old adage ^'many hands make light work" tells 
a part of the story, and ^^ always at it'^ tells an- 
other part, but the task seems larger than the 
genius of the workmen can compass. Still, they 
do compass it and in so doing write out one of 
the parson's great object lessons: '^ Being and 
doing at one's best is getting there in the first 
movement at the beginning and in all the move- 
ments that follow on to the end, and there is no 
end." 

The dry weather has been quite a burden to 
many of my lawn tenants. Some of them are 
furnished with means of defense which they use 
freely. The earthworms laugh at the drought. 
The hot and dry vie together and the surface of 
the ground yields to their influence until there 
is not a particle of moisture left in at least a foot 
of the earth. The worms simply retire to the 
cool rooms of their castle a little farther down, 
and wait in comfort for the return of better days. 
What a house it is that these fellows build ! 
Chambers everywhere, down five or six feet from 
the surface of the ground. There are no other 
plowmen like them. Our best workers stir and 



io6 BIRD PARADISE 

pulverize the earth eighteen or twenty inches 
deep ; these fellows multiply that depth three or 
four times. I suppose they work night and day 
at their task. But is it a task ? I never have 
seen anything on their part that seems to indi- 
cate it. If it be work then it is play also, and 
the spirit of such a combination is the very 
laughter of living. Sufficient unto the day is 
everything that belongs rightfully to the day is 
a prominent article in the earthworm's creed. 

Nearly every day I make the acquaintance of 
some creature in my lawn or garden that I have 
not met before. This morning as I was inter- 
viewing the potato-bugs, a member of the beetle 
family came from somewhere, saying in his mild 
mannered way that he was a tenant of my small 
domain and would enjoy being a little better ac- 
quainted with the proprietor. Of course I as- 
sured him that I knew of no reason why he 
should not have place in my inheritance and not 
ODly place, but daily bread and all the protection 
that such a home provided. He certainly car- 
ried with him the attitude of a listener, though 
I discovered no full assurance that he understood 
the real meaning of the welcome. To the nat- 
ural vision there is nothing very attractive in 



BIRD PARADISE 107 

these creatures, but when I put him uiider my 
glass he passed to a beauty of person everyway 
attractive. Curious how the w^ork of the Divine 
artist becomes more and more beautiful the 
closer we come to the secrets of its being. Each 
new revelation entrances the beholder and also 
gives sign of larger mysteries lying farther on. 
I love the realm of mystery, not that the realm 
of knowledge is without its satisfaction but the 
condition '^seen and unseen" is the very order 
of being. In it my joy of living gets all its own 
— in short, lives, dies, lives again. The crea- 
tures that journey with me, how little I know of 
what they hold as their own. But much, or 
little, it is mine in being theirs and theirs in be- 
ing mine. 

I do not recall a season when the fireflies have 
been so plentiful as they have been during the 
past week. Usually they appear for a short 
time in low, wet places in comparatively small 
numbers. This year they are to be seen in every 
direction, making some of the evenings quite 
brilliant. What a curious furnishing it is. In 
a certain direction it aids the insect, but at the 
same time reveals him to his enemies. How full 
life is of these contradictions, and how true the 



io8 BIRD PARADISE 

passage of Browning reads, '^ All our best inter- 
ests are on the dangerous edge of things. ' ' Fire- 
fly has good command of his lantern. Easily he 
flashes the light, and just as easily commands 
the darkness. I half fancy, sometimes, that he 
makes use of his extra furnishing to guide him 
in his flight. Then, again, I get the notion that 
the fellows are having a sort of Fourth of July, 
or Old Home Week celebration. Each one lights 
a bonfire and carries it around with him. If 
there is any shouting I do not catch the ac- 
cents. About all I get of the gathering is the 
fireworks, and these last a good part of the night. 
I rather enjoy looking out in the night and see- 
ing these fellows going to and fro with their lan- 
terns. They seem to be saying, ''Sleep on, 
parson, get a good rest, we will look after mat- 
ters outside, ^^ and so far I have found their vigil 
most efficient. 

A sparrow-hawk ventured into my orchard 
this week and not only failed to secure any prize, 
but met with several strokes of adversity that 
evidently he had not counted upon. From all I 
could gather I conclude that he made a vigorous 
attempt to bag one of the little chip sparrows 
that was housekeeping in the corner apple tree. 



BIRD PARADISE 109 

I heard the commotion and soon discovered that 
the fellow had not only missed his aim but was 
made the mark of all the birds in this part of 
the village. When I saw him he was rushing 
hither and thither, a dozen birds and more help- 
ing him to move with unusual celerity. Their 
methods of attack varied. The robins flew full 
tilt against him while the sparrows gave loose 
rein to their voices, but keeping at a respectful 
distance from their active enemy. The swallows 
were the most venturesome. Some of the chim- 
ney species went far up into the air, dropping 
down upon the hawk much to the fellow's dis- 
comfort. After a few moments the hawk found 
his bearings, and went rapidly off to the swamp 
— no doubt glad to escape even though the feast 
he had anticipated lacked its principal viand. I 
know full well that the hawk is shaping his 
course aright when he levies on his fellow birds, 
making them contribute all that they are to sat- 
isfy his needs, but at the same time I have a de- 
cided feeling of pleasure when he fails to carry 
out his plans. 

Nearly all young swallows are now on the wing. 
I notice frequently a family of the fellows sitting 
quietly on the telephone wires, the children busy 



no BIRD PARADISE 

learning the many duties of outdoor swallow life. 
I have seen the old birds occasionally feed the 
youngsters as they flew by. Like all other young 
birds they are more conscious of hunger the first 
week of outdoor life than they are of anything 
else. What a perfect movement the swallow uses 
as he passes to and fro on the wing. I never tire 
of watching them and the one I see last is the one 
I fancy is excelling all others^ The young of the 
barn and eave swallows I never have known to 
tumble from the nest until they were ready to use 
their wings nicely. The children of the chimney 
swallow have quite a different experience. It is 
not an unusual thing with them to end their first 
journey from the home nest at the bottom of the 
chimney. With them, however, it is not a 
serious matter. They easily clamber up the sides 
of the chimney and soon emerge from the top 
none the worse for the first trip into the region 
below. Next month they all start on their long 
journey to the far South, giving us no more of 
their company until another spring. 

I notice that the killdeers are gathering in 
small flocks. Their annual housekeeping has had 
its day and the wider community life has taken 
its place. Curious how easily the home life is set 



BIRD PARADISE iii 

aside and the new introduced. The children of 
the family roam, far and wide, apparently entirely 
divorced from all home ties. One would very 
naturally conclude that they would grow stronger 
with the passing of the days. There is every in- 
dication during the helpless days of the young 
birds that the relations of the family are steadily 
increasing in strength. This continues until the 
nestlings are equii^ped to care for themselves. 
That point reached all home relations are sundered 
as with a single stroke. In fact, it seems to set 
aside with all species of birds very largely the 
real affection that appears so strong during the 
nesting season. The flocks that are now gather- 
ing will increase in size until they enter upon the 
flight southward next month. We saw the dif- 
ferent species of plover passing the winter on the 
plains of Oklahoma. Among them the killdeer 
had place as a stirring and attractive member. 
Sometimes when we were out on our long jour- 
neys we levied on these flocks for a portion of our 
supply of food and found it a most appetizing 
addition to the sometimes scanty stock. 

Occasionally I hear a call from high in the air, 
telling of a company of water-fowl passing on their 
way northward. Geese and ducks are both now 



112 BIRD PARADISE 

on the wing and I hardly know which can make 
its call heard the greatest distance. The ducks I 
think are quite apt to do more talking than the 
geese, though both are pretty sure to be heard 
most of the time. Two or three times in my boy- 
hood I was present when a party of travelers 
were lost in a dense fog. Once it was in the early 
morning, before it was hardly light enough to 
discern objects very clearly. I heard the rush of 
wings, and the loud calls, the entire flock tossing 
about in the old orchard, apparently wild with 
fright. In and out among the trees they went, 
some of them almost fanning me with their wings. 
For several minutes they wandered back and forth 
from the pasture to the orchard, a really ludicrous 
sight. Finally the sun broke through the fog, 
giving the fellows the cue to where they were, and 
what they needed to do. The leader took his 
place, the others quickly following his example, 
and the entire flock was soon on its way none the 
worse for the misadventure of a few minutes. In 
my boyhood the fall and spring migrations of the 
ducks and geese were large, great flocks passing, 
sometimes, for several days in succession. Fre- 
quently they stopped for an hour or two on our 
ponds and streams, giving the local sportsmen a 
chance to bag a goodly number. 



BIRD PARADISE 113 



Our water birds seem to be all here. How 
quietly the creatures come and go in their migra- 
tions. Someway I think this class of birds move 
in their accustomed places with the least appear- 
ance of display of all our feathered friends. 
About all I know of their leaving us is that they 
are gone, and when they return in the spring to 
their Northern haunts when I first see them they 
are fully domiciled, no signs perceptible of their 
ever having been away. Down at the swamp side 
I hear the whistle of the woodcock, the sharper 
notes of the snipes, the loud call of the killdeer, 
and the softer strains of the little tip-up. I inter- 
view them and each has his own story to tell and 
he tells it well. Mr. Woodcock, the largest bird 
of the family, I usually see on the wing, though 
frequently I find him busy in a marshy place, 
securing his daily bread. He has a scheme of 
thrusting his long bill down into the soft mold 
and by the sense of touch uncovering his food. 
He must secure a large supply, for he always has 
the appearance of a well-kept bird. The snipe 
has many of the woodcock's habits and is a good 
second to many of his ways. The killdeer comes 
out into the open fields, and is quite a master of 
rapid flight. I saw a small flock this week pass- 



114 BIRD PARADISE 

ing high in the air — uttering frequently their loud 
clear call. Perhaps the most interesting of all 
our water birds is the little sandpiper. From his 
frequent use of the word tip-up, we have given him 
that as his local name. In two or three places in 
the swamp there are sandy places where the 
tip-ups enjoy what I should term their many 
games. They are expert in these games, I am 
sure, and frequently an encore of mine closes a 
contest that looks like a great neighborhood 
gathering. 



I noticed that the robins engaged in nest build- 
ing about as soon as they arrived in their North- 
ern home. Mud, one of the principal materials 
for the nest, they find now in abundance. Dried 
grass also abounds, but perhaps the chief reason 
for the unusual haste lies in the fact that the sea- 
son is a little late. Then, too, they really have 
nothing else to do. So far as I can see they have, 
on their arrival, settled all the preliminaries of 
housekeeping, and of course the house after that 
is the first thing needed. I have no particular 
admiration for the robin as a house builder. I 
suppose he does the best he knows, and that is as 
high as the imperfect ever reaches. Just now I 



BIRD PARADISE 115 

notice that the soug sparrow is busy shapiug a 
mansion which is really a work of art. On the 
swinging branch of one of my evergreens the 
foundation of the house is laid. What a marvel- 
ous cup it is ! But the adorning of the inner walls 
is the marvel of this bird palace. The loug fine 
hairs are woven in until it seems like a fairy 
home, born some way out of the very heart of na- 
ture. It is not at all strange that the author of it 
all should secure thereby the name of hair bird. 
Among the sougs of our early birds I faucy there 
is no other that ranks quite as high as that of our 
chippy friend. I am quite apt to regard it as 
No. 1 among the sparrow melodies. 



My neighbor tells me that a pair of hen- hawks 
have put their nest in a large tree iu the Birmiog- 
ham swamp. Just how they keep their incubator 
warm enough in this cool weather to hatch the 
hawk chickens is a problem with the parson. 
The nest is loosely constructed and even though 
the old birds alternate iu keeping the house warm 
it would seem as though the venture would be a 
failure. In my boyhood the swamp covered many 
acres of land east of the village. Several of the 
hawks^ nests were built there every season. Part 



ii6 BIRD PARADISE 

of the boys' regular pastime was climbiDg the 
great trees for an interview with the hawk house- 
hold. Several times we tried the experiment of 
domesticating one of the young birds, but never 
with any great success. Even when we had grad- 
uated the bird as a real member of the farm fam- 
ily he never became very domestic in his be- 
havior. The young crow repaid us for all the 
trouble we had with him in living such a humor- 
ous, jolly life that his presence was always quite 
enjoyable. The hawk never seemed to be quite 
at home in a domestic state. He was built for 
the wild and he seemed to know it, and I remem- 
ber we were quite well satisfied when he took 
wing and sailed away. 

One of my bird parishioners that interests me 
without being very attractive is the little fly- 
catcher. He has some of the traits of his race 
and some that are peculiarly his own. One of 
his habits keeps him before the public every mo- 
ment of his waking time. Several times a min- 
ute he expresses his feelings in a metallic voice 
that once heard is not easily forgotten. His rai- 
ment is plain, no bright colors being allowed. 
His form is that borne by his family, beauty hav- 
ing not been considered when he was given being. 



BIRD PARADISE 117 

After the housekeeping duties have once been 
assumed the male bird seems to consider it an im- 
portant part of his duty to scold vigorously every 
other bird that comes within range of his voice. 
I have noticed that the oriole seems to give the 
little fellow a stir-up that rouses all his ire. Let 
the notes of the bright- colored bird sound through 
my lawn, and flycatcher makes reply that lacks 
nothing in sharpness. The other birds as a rule 
pay no attention to the little fellow, none of them 
apparently taking him seriously. Curious how 
the way one is considered by his fellows makes 
itself felt in the character. My little friend, pro- 
testing with all his might, grows red in the face 
as no one pays the slightest attention to what he 
is doing. He keeps the fires burning, however, 
and grows into a stout complainer that hasn't a 
particle of influence with anybody. His work 
among the flies is the saving clause in his record. 
His appetite seems to crave anything in the shape 
of an Insect, hundreds passing his way daily. 
Unlike many other species of birds, I have never 
known but one pair to nest in a given locality the 
same season. 

On Tuesday morning I saw the first oriole of 
the season. His hearty whistle from the maples 



ii8 BIRD PARADISE 

in the churchyard told of his presence, and a lit- 
tle later his full song given in the old apple tree 
close to the rectory rehearsed the whole story. 
How fresh and bright his new suit appeared, and 
how his whistle seemed to give a stir-up to all the 
bird life that came under its influence. My little 
flycatcher had an attack of rage instantly. Such 
scolding as he indulged in seems to be an accom- 
plishment all his own. Oriole paid no attention 
to the tirade, but went about his regular business 
in a matter-of-fact way which insured its being 
well done. No other bird rivals him in nest 
building. He seems to have a real genius for this 
kind of architecture, and expresses it in the deed 
with wonderful skill. How deftly he hangs the 
structure to the swaying limbs, and when once 
secured, with what rare finish he weaves and 
shapes his mansion. 'No other nest quite like it, 
and none that shelters the little brood in greater 
safety. Three or four of these oriole houses are 
built in our village every season. 



When the time came for the last member of 
the class to appear on the stage, he seemed a 
little dazed by the unusual performances of his 
fellows. He clambered up to the door of the 



BIRD PARADISE 119 

flicker temple, took a long view of the outside 
world, then retreated to the remotest corner of 
the place. The second attempt was more suc- 
cessful. He stepped boldly out, and after bal- 
ancing a few moments on a near-by limb, went 
forward without a moment's hesitation. How 
nicely he met all the calls of the moment. Out 
over the lawn, right toward the rectory, his 
flight of flicker oratory lifted him to the broad 
porch. Here he took his stand and after survey- 
ing his surroundings for a moment there came a 
clear, ringing shout of victory. Without any 
question his effort bore off the prize of the day. 
The happy faculty of the institution seemed to 
so consider it and the hand-shaking which fol- 
lowed was fully up to the commencement stand- 
ard. The entire afternoon was given up to a 
reception that was every way first-class. Feast- 
ing, speeches, songs, calls, dancing in the broad 
house of the summer air, how merrily each flicker 
took his part. When the day was measured, the 
sentiment of the entire assemblage gave voice, in 
a most resonant '^well done." The next daj^ the 
halls of the bird university were silent, nothing 
more of flicker education to be known there 
until the advent of a new class in the coming 
year. 



I20 BIRD PARADISE 



Most of the bobolinks have left us and are 
journeying toward the South. I saw a flock this 
morning high in the air gaily pushing on their 
way. The monotonous chirp was all the sound 
they uttered and that they kept up while they 
were within hearing. The male birds have 
dropped their distinctive coloring, and the en- 
tire tribe appears in its common, sober brown 
dress. What an experience they will have from 
this time on to next spring ! Perfectly free to 
go and come at will, plenty of food always at 
their command, nothing to do but live and enjoy 
life, it would seem that they might rank with 
the happiest of the happy. In a measure they 
do, but the vicissitudes of life company with 
them wherever they go. After they leave the 
North they lose largely all legal protection. 
When they reach the rice fields of the South they 
become real pests to the farmers of that section 
and in self-defense the farmers are obliged to 
wage war upon them. Thousands are killed and 
used for food. About the first of January they 
come to the waters of the Gulf. Here they tarry 
for a little time, then launch out for their ulti- 
mate destination in South America. Here they 
spend a few weeks on the great plains — entirely 



BIRD PARADISE 121 

removed from all sights and sounds of civiliza- 
tion. Just how they know when to start north- 
ward again I have not discovered, but they do 
know, and as surely as May comes the bobolinks 
appear fully equipped for the summer's campaign. 



The courage of the little sparrow-hawk is 
hardly excelled by any member of his large 
family. The other morning I was busy in my 
garden when suddenly a great commotion in the 
orchard attracted my attention. Thirty or forty 
birds of all species were participants in the up- 
roar, the noise increasing until I felt quite sure 
all birddom was celebrating a real Fourth of July. 
Just at this juncture I discovered a little spar- 
row-hawk, dashing out into the field beyond the 
garden. I saw he carried an extra burden, and 
a little later found that he had picked up one of 
the young robins on my lawn. The birds pur- 
sued him, making his course anything but pleas- 
ant. He dropped down on the farther end of the 
garden, but found that his troubles had only just 
begun. The attacking party grew more and more 
excited. They tumbled over the hawk almost 
in a body. Again he tried to escape by flight, 
but the birds kept with him, and the last I saw 



122 BIRD PARADISE 

of the party they were far over by the swamp, 
where, no doubt, Mr. Hawk finally escaped with 
his prize. I felt like interfering but concluded 
on the whole to let the birds manage their own 
affairs. '*Is there a place where the creatures 
will live, without preying upon one another 1 ' ' 



The great seams of deep ravines opening down 
the slope, each holding a rippling brook, and 
each a stroke among the hills, made when the 
^'morning stars first sang together," ah! how 
they seem to call to each other across the broad 
slope, *^The hand that made us is divine." The 
great hemlocks on their rugged sides are the 
green pastures of the wood, all the year through, 
and when the winter gale searches their high 
places, the harp of the forest yields its richest 
notes. But what shall we say of the life that 
nestles everywhere in these broad aisles'? On 
the trees and in the trees, under the leaves, just 
at the surface of the ground, and deep down in 
the earth, life in a myriad forms revels and goes 
forward. All the new experiences are so much 
new life, and all the new life is the old trans- 
figured. ^'Paradise regained" starts with para- 
dise, and moves on to paradise, — all of it that 



I 



BIRD PARADISE 123 

blessed "hath" to which all is given. Bird 
Paradise, as I see it, at any time, at all times, 
is the "house beautiful" always building, never 
built. 



I conclude, from what I see and hear, that at 
least two families of the large hen-hawks have 
nested in the cedar swamp east of the village. I 
hear their clear calls every pleasant day and 
usually see them soaring high in the air. I have 
thought that this species of hawk was gradually 
lessening in numbers, but this year, and last also, 
there appears to be a setting of the tide in the 
opposite direction. They have some virtues, 
though they are not well pronounced. Hawk 
virtue savors of the quarry from whence it is 
hewn and needs considerable pruning before it 
can be given much of a place among the good 
things of time. The old birds seem to live a sort 
of solitary life. Their predatory habits alienate 
them from all friendship with other birds. I like 
the way this bird defends his home castle. Un- 
like other birds he makes no noise about it. His 
blows come first, and they are hearty and vigor- 
ous. I remember an occasion when I was watch- 
ing a nest of them in the old swamp years ago. 



124 BIRD PARADISE 

A party of crows were foraging on the upland just 
beyond. Something disturbed them and they 
came lumbering into the swamp in their heavy 
way. One of them dropped down into the very 
tree where the nest was, nearly into the nest it- 
self He had no sooner struck the spot than the 
father of the callow brood struck him. He 
tumbled over and kept tumbling over, the hawk 
rendering all the assistance he could. The 
sounds the discomfited crow uttered are nowhere 
written in the vernacular of Croker's tongue. 
The order of his going had no stay in it until he 
was well out of the woods. The entire fiock took 
their departure with him, the hawk remaining 
master of the field. 



Passing near the Bailey swamp I discovered 
a marsh -hawk, evidently preparing his midday 
meal. Somewhere in the marsh he had picked up 
a savory morsel and when I saw him he was seated 
on a limb dissecting and eating his prize. 
Among our many species of hawks this fellow 
that dwells in the marshy places is in many 
respects the most interesting. He has many of 
the characteristics of his large family, though in 
the main he seems of a more genial temperament 



BIRD PARADISE 125 

than most of Ms fellows. His cupboard which 
includes the entire swamp where he dwells is al- 
ways well filled with a great variety of food. 
From what I have seen I conclude that among 
the smaller creatures that live there he classes 
them all as welcome parts of his daily bread. 
This hawk is quite apt to take excursions in the 
night, being closely allied in some of its habits 
with the common barn-owl. It puts its nest on 
the ground or in a tussock of grass, taking care to 
select a location well surrounded by water. I 
enjoy the easy movements of the marsh -hawk as 
he goes to and fro over his watery domain. The 
other day I was watching one that seemed to be 
out for a little pastime when suddenly he stopped 
and dropped down to the bog and when he arose 
again bore a large frog in his talons. I have 
seen once or twice a party of crows invade the 
precincts of this hawk's summer home. Their 
coming to the place is the signal for the most 
vigorous action on the part of the hawk, the 
crows tumbling over each other in their eagerness. 



I heard the call of the cuckoo this week. He 
is the last comer of all our birds and does not 
seem to have a friend outside of his own house- 



126 BIRD PARADISE 

hold among the entire host of birds. He al- 
ways goes neatly dressed, and glides around among 
the trees very much like the catbird. We have 
two species, known as the black billed and the 
yellow billed cuckoos. In general appearance 
they are so much alike that one cannot tell the 
difference only by close inspection. From what 
I see of these birds I conclude that they are fully 
entitled to the dislike of their fellow birds. 
Their sly, gliding movements are a very fair in- 
dex of their character. Audubon gives them a 
name that is not at all to their credit. He says 
they not only lay their eggs in the nests of other 
birds but they suck their eggs and kill the young. 
I never have seen them engaged in these vandal 
acts, but from what I know of their habits I am 
prepared to believe that they are fully competent 
to show some bad behavior. Their call is 
broken and abrupt — a sort of breaking forth of 
the heat in sound. In my boyhood a pair of 
them nested in the large barberry bush on the old 
farm every year. I remember we gave them 
what fellowship we could, but they acted as 
though they cared little for it. I notice that with 
birds, as well as with men, the stroke of the will, 
made large enough, shapes all the character. 
Cuckoo wills the hurt of his fellows, and soon finds 



BIRD PARADISE 127 

his hand against every man and every man's hand 
against him. 



Of all the smaller birds that visit my lawn the 
small flycatcher seems to be the most demonstra- 
tive in asserting his presence and proclaiming his 
wants. He has a metallic voice that he uses 
without much intermission, during all his wak- 
ing moments. He seems to regard himself as one 
of the magnates of the bird world. Other birds, 
however, accord him very doubtful prominence. 
His appearance is the signal for a sort of indiffer- 
ence on the part of his fellow birds that is quite 
noticeable. Just as soon as a pair of these fly- 
catchers establish their summer home the male 
bird is organized into a vigilance committee that 
leaves no stone unturned in doing his entire duty. 
The tone of his metallic voice is gauged to a key 
and manner of the genuine scold. The presence 
of any other bird opens the flood-gates of the fel- 
low's feelings and the protest that follows is 
belligerent in every particular. The oriole seems 
to be his special dislike, so much so that I have a 
notion that the brilliant- colored fellow has in 
some way vented his spleen on his smaller brother. 
Of course the robins and blackbirds receive their 



128 BIRD PARADISE 

share of the flycatcher^ s attention, but it is not 
quite so sharp-edged as that which he bestows 
upon the oriole. How the diminutive body bears 
the stroke of his abrupt call all day long without 
being utterly worn out is a problem. In the 
realm of our innumerable flies the flycatcher does 
himself honor and performs a work that cannot 
be overvalued. I have a notion that the fellow's 
eye can detect a fly that is too minute for the 
human sight to discover. I have watched them 
many times and was quite sure from the snapping 
of the bill that the flies were passing in goodly 
numbers, though I was not able to see any of 
them. As a scavenger of the air our small friend 
shows a redeeming trait that goes far in restoring 
him to the good graces of the parson. 



Tuesday was a very perfect spring day. Its 
warmth and beauty lured the parson to a long 
walk far afield. The first sign of creature life 
that I saw were myriads of small flies that 
seemed to have just entered upon the journey of 
life. There were many species and all intensely 
active. I had the notion that once well out in 
the fields I should get entirely clear of the com- 
mon house-fly, but the fact was that I only 



BIRD PARADISE 129 

seemed to get a little more right where he was. 
Curious that the fellow seemed glad to see me 
when I had no shadow of friendly greeting for 
him. The minute fellows that I could only see 
as the sunlight was reflected from their wings 
were in such numbers all along the swamp side 
that it could be truly said they filled the air. 
What a feasting place for the flycatchers who 
will be with us a little later. At the brook side 
I stopped for a time to hear the song it sings 
when the spring storms swell the volume of its 
waters. I had seen it a thousand times before, 
but this morning it was practically a new brook. 
The sun's rays played with the ripples, shaping 
a variety of shadows — every one seemingly alive. 
In one place the long spears of sedge grass 
swayed from side to side like living creatures. 
Their shadows on the gravel of the channel gave 
them the appearance of gems of ''purest ray 
serene." Just at the crossing in the old road- 
way I sat for a little time, and to my astonish- 
ment and delight the water spiders made their 
appearance. There were a pair of them to look 
at, the same fellows I used to see there in my 
boyhood. How easily they walked over the sur- 
face of the water. I half fancied that they were 
moved by the desire to show the parson how 



I30 BIRD PARADISE 

easily they could pass and repass on the shifting 
element under their feet. Eising to go, my 
shadow was thrown across the brook and in- 
stantly the spiders dropped to the bottom and 
disappeared among the stones. 

I notice that the hawks of different species 
seem to enjoy the swamp scenery better than 
that of any other locality in our hill country ; at 
least their action seems to warrant that conclu- 
sion. Yesterday I saw a pair leisurely tossing 
about over the marsh just east of the village. 
They belonged to the species known as marsh- 
hawks, in some respects the most interesting of 
the large hawk family. How easily and grace- 
fully they move to and fro on their broad wings. 
It certainly looked like an hour of pastime, though 
there was every indication that they had an eye 
for business. Quite a variety of food was pre- 
sented for their choice and they improved the 
opportunity offered to the best of their ability. 
I am quite sure they picked up some frogs and 
in one instance a field-mouse was added to the 
menu for the day. I fancy the hawks really 
enjoy their hunting expeditions. Success quick- 
ens the blood in hawks as well as in men. Espe- 
cially so when the effort is stimulated by hunger. 



BIRD PARADISE 131 

In the bird it may not be less than a virtue and 
in the man ranks the same if it be rightly used. 



A fine specimen of a male bobolink came into 
my lawn this week and stayed some little time. 
During part of the visit he was quite close to the 
porch and seemed really disposed to make the 
parson understand that he meant to be especially 
friendly. I do not recall an instance where a 
member of this family put himself into such fa- 
miliar relations with the human brother. If he 
had his song with him he did not use it, neither 
did he open his mouth to say anything of why he 
was making such an unusual visit. From all 
that he did not say, however, I received the im- 
pression that the fellow had been grossly mis- 
used. Yery likely a hawk or some wandering 
fox had visited his home and he only was left to 
tell the story of wreck and ruin. What trage- 
dies there are in bird life ! Every day they occur 
and it is only a few of the large number that we 
ever hear of. After an hour or two the fellow 
went his way, carrying with him my warmest 
sympathy, though I know it was very doubtful 
if he knew what it meant. This certainly is al- 
ways true, that true sympathy extended always 



132 BIRD PARADISE 

does the sympathizer good whatever the effect 
may be on the one that it is intended to reach. 



I am now receiving visits from the warblers 
who have spent the summer in the far North. 
The little worm eating warbler was the first to 
pay his respects to the parson, and he did it 
handsomely, as all his family do. I saw him 
first gliding up one of the long limbs of the 
larches. How easily he threaded his way, just 
as much at home on the under side of the limb 
as on the upper. Evidently it was his dinner 
hour, the feast not limited in the least by time 
or quantity. Curious how birds keep so well, 
eating almost without intermission during the 
day. I see by the books that this warbler is 
given the range as far north as southern New 
York. I wonder if the books are correct. The 
birds I see answer to the description of the war- 
bler in every particular and I see them only in 
the fall and spring. I never have seen their 
nests but am told they are built on the ground 
and resemble very closely that of the oven bird. 
It speaks in audible tones very seldom and at its 
best uses but little that is very musical. My 
visitor stayed an hour or two and I should think 



BIRD PARADISE 133 

managed to secure several score of grubs in that 
time. 

Passing near the swamp thicket this morning I 
was greeted cheerily by the song of the thrush. 
It came out of the coverts so smoothly and sweetly 
that one wondered how such a place could yield 
such music. It was the stirring trill of Mr. 
Thrush at his very best. What a song it is and 
how it commands the attention of all the denizens 
of the wood. I noticed that when it was given 
utterance the other singers were silent. Very 
likely the clear ripple of the notes was so bright 
and entrancing that no others could be given a 
moment's thought. Usually the singing of one 
of these birds is answered by another from some 
point near by. I waited for the response and 
half fancied at times that it was in the air, but 
none was made. The lack of response, however, 
had no perceptible effect upon the singer. He 
went on and seemed entirely satisfied in having 
the parson for a listener. The nest, no doubt, 
was hidden away in the thicket, the young being 
now nearly ready to shift for themselves. It has 
occurred to me that if the young birds could only 
shape and use the song of the species it would add 
much to the attractiveness of our groves. We 



134 BIRD PARADISE 

have four species that are commou here — all of 
them fine singers. 



I saw on my recent journey south quite a 
number of hawks, large and small. They were 
far enough south to escape the snow, and seemed 
entirely at home. One large hen-hawk was en- 
gaged in the pastime of soaring high in the air. 
It was a bright, clear day, and the fellow ap- 
peared to be enjoying every moment of his out- 
ing. Not far from him were two or three turkey- 
buzzards — first-class rivals of the hawks in the 
art of soaring. With clear fields and warm 
weather I could readily understand that the con- 
dition of my old acquaintances was greatly im- 
proved over their winter condition at the North. 
But I could not help propounding the question, 
*' Will these bare fields yield the fellows any large 
supply of food ? '' The thick grass carpet which 
we have at the North is not seen at the South. 
With us this carpet furnishes the favorite resort 
for innumerable bugs, grubs and mice. The 
hawks know this fact and rely upon the supply 
for the main part of their food. Of course in the 
winter the doors of this great cupboard are all 
tightly shut. In the South they are all wide 



BIRD PARADISE 135 

open, so far as the place itself is concerned, but 
the carpet being entirely absent, there is no cover 
for creatures of any kind. Doubtless there are 
other retreats for the fellows, but I have the no- 
tion that the fields of the South are not the pro- 
lific home of the smaller creatures such as I have 
named above. I noticed a small sparrow-hawk 
prospecting in the immediate vicinity of several 
negro cabins. He dropped down into one of the 
yards, and I thought secured a luckless sparrow. 
As we passed down the river from Wilmington I 
noticed a small conference of the buzzards gath- 
ered about some dead creature that the receding 
tide had left above the water line. Two or three 
hawks and as many crows took their departure 
when the buzzards came upon the scene. A large 
amount of food is furnished every day from the 
river and ocean. The keen sight of all the birds 
named above is simply wonderful. They quickly 
discover the dead as well as the living animals, 
and are certainly adepts in appropriating the de- 
licious viands offered them. 



In my boyhood several species of owls were 
common here. The great hollow trees of the 
wood furnished them with homes entirely to their 



136 BIRD PARADISE 

liking. The trees are all gone and most of the 
owls also. I occasionally see the small screech- 
owl, but rarely any other. As a boy I well re- 
member hearing the calls of the larger owls in 
the great ravine of Bird Paradise. They often 
gave them in the daytime and we sometimes saw 
the staid fellows in the great openings of the trees. 
At one time a family of owls dwelt in the old farm 
wood, that indulged in unusual hoots and calls. 
Occasionally they would give a sound like the 
tolling of a bell, especially solemn on the evening 
of a calm summer day. I half fancied that the 
fellows were holding some sort of service, and 
that the bell sounding was a call to the gathering. 
Another fancy of mine was that the great horned 
owl was a sort of father and all around adviser 
among the birds of the wood. A slight increase 
of knowledge, however, dissipated all such crude 
ideas and left the owl barren of any particularly 
ornamental or useful traits of character. One 
thing, however, the owls made most familiar : 
they were lovers of the dark, and we were early 
taught that with such belonged the deeds that are 
evil. 

The halcyon days foi* the minute insects are 
mostly measured in the fall of the year. The 



BIRD PARADISE 137 

sunny, dry afternoons they enjoy in the true in- 
sect manner. The little gossamer spider is among 
the most interesting of the great host. I was over 
at the old farm the other day and strolled down 
to the hillside near Bird Paradise. At first I 
thought the little fellows were not on duty. A 
little later, however, the company assembled and 
surely I never saw it larger. Out from the fence 
and bushes the silver threads streamed with a 
minute spider at the end of each one. There were 
thousands in sight from where I stood, and every 
fence and bush in our hill country was presenting 
the same scene. The threads and the insects can 
only be seen when the sun-s rays are reflected by 
them. Curious how the thread is spun from the 
little body — the creature letting it buoy him up 
as the spinning goes on. Curious, too, how it can 
all be wound up again and used over and over. 
Down at the swamp side I lingered, hoping to see 
another friend of my boyhood days, and sure 
enough there the fellow was, seemingly the same 
I saw sixty years ago. The little pool of water 
enticed the boy again, and there on the surface 
of the water was the happy boatman, just as I 
saw him in my boyhood, — the water-spider, walk- 
ing over the water as easily as some of his kin 
walk over the smooth surface of the wall. I take 



138 BIRD PARADISE 

the old seat and watch the little creature. It goes 
to and fro, sinking to the bottom at will, a verita- 
ble wizard of navigation. Master of his craft in 
his appointed sphere, lacking nothing, so I sit at 
his feet sure that I am listening to one of nature^ s 
great preachers. 



The growth of the present season, I think, I 
have never seen equaled. My garden apparently 
has not lost a moment since it entered upon the 
race last spring. I find it necessary to visit it 
several times a day in order to keep abreast of 
its forward march. At times I fancy there is a 
well-ordered contest between the different vege- 
tables. Those that revel in vines seem to have 
the advantage. A squash vine has pushed its 
way so vigorously that it is already twenty-five 
feet on its march and the end is not yet. Here 
and there it has camped, leaving a memento of 
the stay in a squash of no mean proportions. 
The wise heads of the place are the lettuce and 
cabbage. If they nod at all it is when I am look- 
ing the other way. Just now the early potatoes 
are proving their worth in the test that is the 
proof of the pudding. What delicious balls of 
fluffy white they present when they are bringing, 



BIRD PARADISE 139 

as they do, the best bow the garden caii make. 
But the variety of leaves that appear in the dif- 
ferent growths is a sort of school that I enjoy 
attending. Each has its own way of telling what 
it is, and each is fashioned after a pattern ' ' seen 
in the mount." Why not a revelation — every 
leaf, every vegetable, all the growth of things 
unseen ? Why not a school replete with law and 
gospel I 



I have seen it stated that the rose-breasted 
grosbeak, whenever the opportunity offers, feasts 
upon the potato-bugs. How true the statement 
is I do not know, but if the fact be as stated it 
does seem as though the fellow's taste had gotten 
largely astray. Of course I have no real concep- 
tion of the flavor of this species of bug. It may 
be of a luscious character and no doubt the bird 
so regards it. The potato-bugs are scarce this 
year and as a matter of fact so are the grosbeaks. 
Like other birds, the fellow may go where he 
finds his favorite food abundant. By the way, 
what a curious package of life the potato-bug 
is. I know of but one attractive thing in his 
make-up. He wears a suit that shows a stroke 
of color all right. Otherwise he seems like a soft 



I40 BIRD PARADISE 

pulpy lump of matter that n^ver is quite so 
happy as when gorging himself on a stalk of a 
potato vine. Grosbeak may show some defect of 
relish by using the fellow for food, but if he does 
it is about the only defect I know in the bird. 
Among our wood birds he ranks high in both 
song and appearance. The nest he constructs, 
while not first-class, serves his purpose hand- 
somely. The song is a warble that feels its 
course along the aisles of the wood in a way 
most attractive. In fact it is one of the delight- 
ful songs among the wood melodies. I think they 
extend the season of song longer than any other 
of our wood birds. 



I saw near the swamp last week a bright crim- 
son colored fly. It was perhaps half larger than 
the common house-fly, and appeared to be just 
entered upon the life of the spring season. What 
a singular provision it is that graduates the fly 
in full dress, thoroughly furnished for all the 
good work that he seems ready to engage in. 
This fellow was just a little dazed by the glamor 
of the new world upon which he had so recently 
entered. He would climb a spear of grass and, 
balancing himself at the top, spread and shake 



BIRD PARADISE 141 

his wings as though he were testing his new 
capacities before he ventured to use them. With 
the glass I readily saw that his new suit was 
ornamented with a variety of colors, though he 
seemed quite unconscious of the fact. I saw, all 
about, where the crows had been, and congrat- 
ulated Mr. Fly on his good fortune of being 
hatched a little too late for their early visit. I 
looked about for the fellow's native place, but 
did not discover it unless a little cavity at the 
base of a decayed stump was the spot. I saw 
several other species of flies — all of them accom- 
panied by a retinue of their fellows, but this one 
paddled his own canoe without fear or favor of 
any of his kind. After a brief space of balanc- 
ing and warming he set the entire machine of his 
powers in motion. To his evident surprise all 
went well with him and the last I saw of his 
retreating form he was well out over the marsh — 
gaining new confidence with every stroke of his 
wings. I could but moralize something like this : 
Here is an exposition older than any man has 
devised. He who made it all keeps it open and 
keeps it in order right through the ages. On 
every side are things and creatures, millions of 
them, each one a marvel of construction and 
beauty, in almost every respect. What else is it 



142 BIRD PARADISE 

but a Jamestown of wonders, its myriad doors 
ever wide open to him who lingers there with 
eyes to see and ears to hear ? 

I notice in my garden a great number of small 
toads. The little fellows do not look large enough 
to take care of themselves, but they seem to get 
along very well. A few days ago they left their 
home in the water and came out upon the land. 
I have seen them making the venture in com- 
panies of a hundred or more, all intent on finding 
a location that they can regard as home. What 
a curious instinct it is which leads them out of 
the water home and establishes them in the snug- 
gery on the land. Who would imagine that the 
curious thing hatched in the water would ever 
become a toad ? The name tadpole or poUywog 
seems to represent the newcomer very nicely. 
^'Pretty much all head and taiP^ was what the 
boy said when he first saw one of the fellows. 
For weeks they swim about in the water, furnish- 
ing food for the fish and many water birds. When 
the time arrives the great change occurs. The 
tail disappears, the legs are put in place and a 
new spirit takes possession of the fellow. He 
hies away to a new world and in a sense drops 
all the knowledge that his experience in the water 



BIRD PARADISE 143 

house has given him. I suppose their food is the 
minute flies which are found in the grass in im- 
mense numbers. If the weather be warm, as it 
is this season, most any place in the lawn or 
garden will serve as an abiding spot. They grow 
quite rapidly for the first season, but I conclude 
are several years in obtaining their growth. It 
is a tradition in our hill country that they live to 
a great age and doubtless the idea is in the main 
correct. From what I see I infer that the crows 
make the young toad a favorite article of food. 
It is a little difScult to understand how such a 
creature can be a very savory morsel. The toad's 
work in the garden catching flies commends him 
highly. He is a first-class helper in securing 
good vegetables. 

Among the diligent workers that dwell in the 
fastnesses of my lawn, I should give high 
rank to the burying beetles. Their right to the 
name is secured by a skill and diligence as workers 
that are quite remarkable. Frequently on the 
old farm in my boyhood we would come upon the 
fellows pushing one of their ventures that meant 
food for the entire tribe for weeks to come. How 
they find the dead creature that they bury so 
nicely is an unsolved problem with the parson. 



144 BIRD PARADISE 

I have known the pioneer of the band to appear 
in a very few minutes after a young chicken had 
died. In a short time others would arrive — all 
bringing their burying tools with them, and all 
getting right to work just as soon as they arrived. 
Little by little they remove the dirt from under 
the body, letting it down gradually until it is well 
below the surface of the ground. Then they 
tumble the particles of earth on the upper side 
until the treasure is entirely covered. The time 
of the task may take many days, but when done 
it is certainly well done. The food which one 
creature repels is the favorite article of diet with 
another. The beetles enjoy with keen relish the 
food that is only made savory to them by corrup- 
tion. The eggs are deposited where the larvae 
as soon as hatched can feed upon the buried 
body. The beetle to the ordinary vision seems 
quite devoid of beauty, but when I put him under 
my magnifying glass a new creature appears. 
^' He hath made all things beautiful in his time ^^ 
is verified completely when we see things, ^'not 
through a glass darkly, but face to face.*' 



The other morning I discovered a piece of meat 
dropped by some one at the side of the road. A 



BIRD PARADISE 145 

single blue fly was investigating the prize, not an- 
other of his fellows being in sight. Eeturning 
about two hours later I found the single fly 
multiplied by at least two hundred. Where did 
they all come from and how did they learn of the 
feast spread for them f I think their system of 
conveying news must be wonderfully effieient. 
But the number assembled on the occasion noted 
above was simply astonishing. They must have 
been dwellers in the grass of the field near by and 
doubtless the companj^ I saw was only a corporal's 
guard of the vast number on duty in the wide 
country. They may do harm as our wise men 
tell us, and certainly they are not very agreeable 
companions, but there is the other side of the 
matter. The things they feed upon are of that 
character which would be injurious in many ways 
if they were not removed. The fly is a scavenger 
of large value, and until we have a better system 
of preventing his increase we shall need him for 
the good he does. 



If what the toad now says corresponds with 
what he does then it conveys the single idea of 
winter quarters. Under the clinging vines at the 
side of the barn a venerable specimen of this 



146 BIRD PARADISE 

ancient family has passed the summer. He 
makes his presence known by certain utterances 
that surely have nothing pleasing in sound, and 
so far as my knowledge extends are not freighted 
with valuable meaning. Mr. Toad doubtless is 
more fully informed and in his own way enjoys 
his special knowledge. I notice the fellow makes 
full preparation for the winter some time before 
the chilly blasts are exerting their influence. I 
frequently find them nicely tucked away a foot or 
more down from the surface of the ground, early 
in October. It occurs to me that as the fellow is 
situated with nothing special to do, it is a nice 
arrangement if he can fold his hands and set the 
long winter sleep in motion. The secret of when 
to begin, however, belongs to the toad and will, I 
judge, for all the coming years. I know of no 
creature that counts the full grown toad as a 
special viand at its feasts. The young fellow is 
used, but the old fellow never ! Early in the 
spring the toad puts its eggs into the incubator 
furnished by the pond, and I have the notion that 
all the eggs hatch. The parent's form does not 
appear in the young toad. A few weeks spent in 
the water, however, graduates the entire family in 
full toad dress, ready for the summer campaign. 
Half of them, I judge, fall a prey to hawks and 



BIRD PARADISE 147 

crows during the first summer. In fact only a 
few, comparatively, reach the full adult size. 

The dry warm weather does not quite suit the 
toad citizens of our hill country. They prefer 
more moisture and I judge are not over fond of 
the heated term. I have not seen a member of 
the family for several weeks. The last one I met 
was stopping under one of my large cabbages, and 
seemed a good deal annoyed when I lifted the 
great leaves and looked in upon the house and its 
household of one. Of course, he had no oppor- 
tunity to be other than quiet and peaceful, living 
alone as he did. From some significant signs 
which I saw, I concluded the fellow was arrang- 
ing to don a new suit of clothes. Curious how 
the toad divests himself of the entire suit that he 
has worn for months. Just how he does it, I do 
not know. I see the old put off and the new put 
on and there my knowledge halts, and I fancy the 
toad's does also. Throwing aside the old skin 
and putting on a new one is exactly what is 
done. A few days in the new raiment gets every- 
thing into shape, so that the fellow feels entirely 
at home. The single suit serves for twelve 
months, and someway the wearer easily keeps it 
whole and clean all that time. 



148 BIRD PARADISE 



Crossing the field near the swamp last week I 
interviewed several of my friends who make 
their home in that locality. I passed by the 
birds for the time being and shook hands espe- 
cially with a number of friends much smaller in 
bodily size but none the less dear to one who is 
in close touch with the children of the common 
household. A red fly, somewhat larger than the 
common house-fly, first attracted my attention 
and managed one way and another to keep it for 
some little time. Insects of different colors I 
had seen before, but I did not recall one dressed 
wholly in bright red. The fellow seemed to be 
enjoying his surroundings, though they were 
somewhat tame to the real lover of nature. I 
got the notion that he had just added to his 
equipment the pair of wings with which he was 
furnished, for he appeared to be feeling of them 
most of the time more as a plaything than a 
member to be put to actual use. He would run 
lightly up the spear of grass and balancing nicely 
on the top spread his wings and wave them. 
Then he would vary the movement, each new 
venture no doubt giving him larger confidence 
in the wider life upon which he had evidently 
just entered. Finally he pushed his way down 



BIRD PARADISE 149 

iuto the dried grass apparently quite well satis- 
fied with all the experience the day had put into 
his keeping. 



Dry weather is not conducive to what the 
toad regards as his best welfare. I am not sure 
that protracted wet weather suits him much 
better. Enough dampness, however, to remove 
all danger of drought is quite to his liking. How 
far he journeys during the night hours I have no 
means of knowing, but I conclude from what I 
have seen of his habits that most of his move- 
ments are made after dark. Occasionally the 
gruff voice of one of the veteran fellows comes to 
me from the thick grass of the orchard and I can 
hardly divest myself of the idea that Mr. Toad is 
more surprised at the sound than anybody else. 
Some six or seven of the venerables are quartered 
on my small domain and are not by any means 
the least interesting of my many tenants. Just 
here my neighbor's little girl comes in with a 
box and removing the cover shows me a small 
toad which she found this morning in their ash 
barrel. The little fellow is lighter colored than 
most toads are and the girl thought it might be 
a different kind from those we usually see. I 



I50 BIRD PARADISE 

told her to put bim somewhere that he could get 
the benefit of the sun's rays, and he would soon 
show a different color. How nice it is when a 
girl of ten years can get near to these creatures 
of God. It shapes valuable character for the 
battle of life. 



Nearly every day I meet with a number of the 
humming-bird family. Sometimes their manner 
conveys the idea of a casual call — no particular 
stroke of friendship in it. Then they will give 
such a cordial greeting that I am quite sure it 
means the best kind of bird fellowship. Sitting 
on the porch this morning, enjoying the sun's 
*' coming forth as a bridegroom out of his cham- 
ber," I heard a slight humming sound. Glanc- 
ing around I saw a little ruby throat standing on 
his rapidly moving wings not three feet from me. 
How nicely he balanced there and what else was 
the meaning of the visit but the heartiest kind 
of a cheery June greeting. He moved two or 
three times while he stayed, but how he did it 
was all a mystery to me. I could see the little 
head turn, then the body flash to another bird 
station several feet away, but there was no ap- 
pearance of effort, nothing to indicate that the 



BIRD PARADISE 151 

creature used a particle of strength in making 
the movement. He gave me a few moments of 
his time, then darted away, his flight apparently 
vieing with the sunbeam in the compassing of 
distance. Think of it, the flight of this little 
fellow, recording one hundred miles an hour. 
How does he command it, and how can he stop 
when once passing at that rate of speed I 



All through the summer a pair of bats have 
taken their evening pastime in the open reaches 
of my lawn. Lately the young fellows have 
joined in the outing so that five or six take their 
evening meal and mingle socially, if that be pos- 
sible, with these curious creatures. I have not 
been able to discover their summer cottage, but 
I am quite sure that it is located somewhere in 
the attic of the old church. The bats are lovers 
of darkness, but I have no knowledge that their 
deeds are evil. Their time for work and play is 
the early hours of the evening. Daring the day 
and most of the hours of the night I rarely see 
them. They move a little heavily on the wing 
and seem to soon weary of their flight. The 
young fellows must of necessity come short in 
the daily bread, still they seem to thrive ftiirly 



152 BIRD PARADISE 

well. I was watching them for some time last 
evening and really found myself quite enlisted in 
the work claiming their attention. Small flies 
and mosquitoes are the main supply of food, but 
I judge other creatures form no inconsiderable 
part of the daily portion. Their work in deci- 
mating the ranks of the mosquitoes gives them 
place among our best toilers in the great vine- 
yard. The only sound I ever hear from them is 
a faint tremor of squeak like the soft cadence of 
a rusty door hinge. 



I noticed several new birds in my lawn trees 
this week. The vireos and warblers have arrived 
from the South and are busy locating their sum- 
mer homes. The warbling vireo is the most in- 
teresting of the birds bearing the name. His 
song allies him closely with the warblers. In 
fact, it is part and parcel with them. The 
energy with which this bird repeats his song 
through the summer is remarkable. His prin- 
cipal rival is the yellow warbler, and the two 
make themselves heard every minute of the day. 
Both have the faculty of keeping up a sort of 
perpetual motion and both make full use of the 
faculty. I fancy sometimes that the fellows are 



BIRD PARADISE 153 

engaged iii a spirited rivalry, each eager to outdo 
the other. After I have watched them a few 
minutes I find myself wondering how bodies that 
are turning in every direction, never still a mo- 
ment, can carry with them level heads. The full 
interpretation of it all is in the deed itself. So 
far as I can see they are never at fault for a mo- 
ment. Year in and year out they keep up their 
rapid pace and seem to be never in the least at 
fault. In the game of bird athletics they have no 
superior. 



The scarlet tanager family seems to be increas- 
ing in numbers. I hear of several being seen in the 
orchards of our hill country. In my boyhood 
they came out into the trees about the house 
every season, but for a number of years I have 
not seen one only in the wood, and only a few 
there. His name of fire bird is most appropriate, 
for his appearance in the forest is that of a gleam 
of fire among the green leaves. The male bird 
wears the brilliant colors and does all the singing. 
The song of the tanager is a pleasing succession 
of notes, readily distinguished among the wood 
birds. The female and the young birds wear 
suits of sober colors, otherwise they would all fall 



154 BIRD PARADISE 

a prey to their many enemies. In nest building 
this bird can scarcely be deemed much of a suc- 
cess. Of course, they know what they want, and, 
I suppose, secure it in the structure they build. 
What seems to us a defect may, after all, be an 
excellence that the bird recognizes in full. I 
am quite sure that these birds are profiting by 
the law which protects them in most of the states. 
A few years more and they will become as com- 
mon as in the olden days. 



Just here I heard the song of the yellow warbler 
— the first of the season. Glancing from the 
window I saw a pair of the little fellows explor- 
ing the tree directly in front. They were busy 
securing what food they could and at the same 
time intent on locating their summer cottage. 
The female seemed the most in earnest in the mat- 
ter, and I thought occasionally read a rather sharp 
lecture to her companion. The warbler family is 
a large one — some thirty and more species. They 
are the perpetual motion contingent among our 
great army of birds. Most of them I am sure 
have no knowledge of what it means to sit still for 
a moment in the daytime, at least I never have 
seen them making any attempt in that direction. 



BIRD PARADISE 155 

The yellow warbler is the ouly one of the large 
family that spends much time outside the wood. 
As nest builders they are quite skilful, decorat- 
ing the inner part with the taste of a real artist. 
The song of this bird is sounded at all hours of 
the day. Most of our song birds are quiet in the 
heat of the summer's day — not so the yellow 
warbler. Once in motion in the morning the 
song is in motion, and it is kept up three or four 
times a minute all day long. I sometimes fancy 
the song a sort of expression of the summer's 
heat, sounding morning, noon and night as it 
does, through the hot season. Be that as it may, 
however, it has a very cheery rendering and I 
conclude cannot be sciven too often. 



Several times in the last few days the smallest 
of my bird parishioners has interviewed me 
evidently with the very best of intentions. His 
last visit was on a recent afternoon as I was sit- 
ting on the porch enjoying the perfect June day. 
My first intimation that I was the recipient of a 
call was a low buzzing souud, hardly more than 
that made by the common fly. Glancing up I 
saw a little humming-bird standing on his wings 
scarcely three feet away. I say standing on his 



156 BIRD PARADISE 

wings, and that was what he was doing and doing 
it nicely. He moved a little up and down, but 
remained several seconds in very nearly the same 
place. Ah, what bird gems these little fellows 
are ! Songless as they are they make up in other 
ways for any lack there may be in the element of 
music. My visitor turned around, two or three 
times while he stayed, as though he would impress 
me with a clear idea of his matchless suit and of 
his matchless way of wearing it. Then the 
movement of the bird so quickly done that I 
could hardly follow it with the eye ! How can 
this small creature command the strength to flash 
from point to point annihilating distance at the 
rate of a hundred miles an hour? When the 
time came to close the interview my little friend 
darted away, moving his small craft more rapidly 
than is possible with any other bird. Years ago 
our hill country was visited annually by ^ve or 
six species of these small birds. Now only one 
species is seen at the North, the little ruby- 
throat. I am told that there are over 400 species 
of the humming-bird. They are essentially 
dwellers in the tropics, some of them having a 
very brilliant plumage. Somewhere in my lawn 
trees I am quite sure a nest is located, but just 
where I have not yet learned. 



BIRD PARADISE 157 



Five or six species of the warblers nest in our 
hill country. They are all lively fellows, and 
some way practice a kind of friendship that is 
most enjoyable. Occasionally I take a free and 
easy saunter through the aisles of Bird Paradise. 
While there I am quite apt to be a '' boy again," 
just for the fun of a real, old-time frolic. The 
other day I went far down the ravine, and when 
down lay down on the bed of leaves, and without 
au effort on my part passed into the cozy rooms 
of the ''house beautiful," that cheery temple of 
genuine, whole-souled boyhood. The greatcanopy 
of rustling leaves, woven in the wondrous loom of 
life, the same as in the years agone, and darting 
hither and thither, were the warblers — each one 
I thought shouting an ' ' all hail ' ' to the boy far 
below. I wondered at the readiness with which 
they went to and fro in the highways of Bird 
Paradise. Work and pleasure were combined in 
all their movements, in fact, they really appeared 
as though they were doing their best in entertain- 
ing their old-time guest. Somehow a single 
member of this large family came a little nearer 
to me than any of the others. Earlier in the 
season I had interviewed the little redstart, who 
had put his nest in a small tree, a few feet from 



158 BIRD PARADISE 

the brook. I was almost sure that this was the 
same bird, at least, I counted him the same. To 
my delight he gave every indication that he knew 
me. His warble was of the fellowship sort, and 
every move he made was an epic of the days of 
^' Auld Lang Syne." What a sermon the little 
fellow preached. Just a fine *^ send off" for the 
parson, who was treasuring notes for a real ser- 
mon. 



During our heated term I have listened with 
the keenest pleasure to the voice of the frogs. 
There is a sort of mouth-watering tone in the call 
of one of the large frogs on a hot evening that is 
most refreshing. Quite a little distance from the 
rectory lies a small pond. In the evening, sit- 
ting on my porch, I hear the gurgling strain of 
the dwellers there and half fancy that it is a 
breath of cooling influence from some grotto of 
the wood. I strolled down to the pond the other 
day and interviewed the residents there. I am 
quite sure hearing them from a distance is more 
satisfactory than a close inspection. A frog 
pond in the summer is not even one remove from 
what is commonly known as a mud-hole. There 
may be frogs that enjoy the clear water and 



BIRD PARADISE 159 

gravelly bottom of the flowing brook, but those 
I am acquainted with are altogether careless 
about dwelling in a clean house. Still, I am 
quite willing to grant that cleanliness with the 
frogs may be many removes lower in the scale 
than would suit his human brothers. At the 
time of my visit I found the venerable citizens of 
the place sitting in state, each on his own hassock 
of grass — all looking wise, as only frogs can. I 
gave the frogs the credit of saying just what I 
would have said if I had been in their place. In 
other words, if I had been a fi-og, as I was a 
man, I should certainly have said, ' ' Cool, cool, 
comfortable, comfortable. ' ' Then, that ker-chug 
with which the fellows took the water, what a 
world of comfort there is in it and how it all 
suits the frog perfectly. 



Each season of the year I take a long stroll in 
Bird Paradise. To each season belongs its own 
expression of paradise life. Just the other day 
I made my bow there, and I am sure the homage 
paid by the parson was fraught with large good. 
I don't know that I ever go into this '^ house 
beautiful' ' without seeing and feeling something 
new, and I am not quite sure that I ever get into 



i6o BIRD PARADISE 

this house by the same door that I used before. 
My favorite way of approach is over the high 
point of ground on the south side of the old 
Wicks farm. Here I get a broad view, which 
puts me into the best possible condition to enter 
paradise. Then, too, sacred memories throng 
every foot of the old farm, all closely associated 
with some revered kinsman, each an ''open door'' 
in paradise. By the time I set foot in the temple 
of the woods, mind and heart are both ready to 
see the ''king in his beauty," and he is always 
there in his beauty. The robes of summer, which 
the trees put on and wear so handsomely, had all 
been taken off, folded and put away in the great 
open cupboard of the place. 



A stroll in the aisles of Bird Paradise lately 
was full of autumn sights and sounds. The day 
was rich in the mellowness of the year and all 
the wide reaches of the grove were radiant in the 
quiet beauty of the season. A family of oven 
birds saluted me, though it was done by protest 
rather than in the mood of hearty welcome. It 
was late in the season for the household to be in 
company together. Something had deferred the 
annual housecleaning, but for all I could see it 



BIRD PARADISE i6i 

was fully as successful as that done in the regular 
season. Old and young birds did all their talk- 
ing in the common tongue of a single call note. 
Just below them on the hillside a red squirrel 
chattered in response to the birds, and near him, 
searching a decayed log, I saw a worm-eating 
warbler. 



This morning I saw a wandering skunk cross- 
ing my lawn. It was light enough so that I 
could see the prowler and keep entirely out of 
his way. These fellows have their place and I 
am quite content to let them have it. I notice 
that they are scavengers of real value. Grubs 
and worms of various kinds make up their regu- 
lar diet. With their long claws they search the 
lawn, uncovering many a luscious morsel. I am 
told that they are invaluable helpers in the hop 
field. Their meaus of defense has a great deal 
of strength to recommend it, and I know of very 
few creatures that are willing to contend with it. 
On the old farm the skunk levied tribute on the 
poultry yard, to some extent, every year. His 
sluggish nature is well known, but his chief rep- 
utation rests upon the facility with which he 
can poison the air of an entire neighborhood. I 



i62 BIRD PARADISE 

never have known him to show any marked traits 
of virtue. If he deals in them at all he does it 
largely out of sight. His place in the economy 
of life is a little difficult to discover, and the 
same is true of some individuals of the homo 
genus. 



My woodpecker friends are now visiting me 
daily. Several species are represented and all 
seem glad to get back to the autumn round of 
pastimes. Only the smaller birds winter at the 
I^orth. The larger ones, the ones best able, ap- 
parently, to endure the rigor of the climate, all 
hie away to the South. Flicker and redhead, 
the two birds that I should choose as just the 
ones to remain at the North, are among the 
earliest of our fall birds to migrate. Either of 
these birds would seem to be the ideal one to 
meet bravely the snow and cold. The large gray 
woodpecker, just a little smaller than the red- 
head, is a stirring, vigorous fellow, but he has 
no inclination to stem the tides of one of our 
Northern winters. Sapsucker, nuthatch, chick- 
adee and one or two other species — little fellows 
all of them — stay with us and not only stay but 
really seem to enjoy keenly our coldest weather. 



BIRD PARADISE 163 

It may be that one reason of their sojourning 
with us is the abundant supply of food provided 
for them. I notice that they find food every- 
where in the trees. Every particle of bark on 
the trunk and limbs seemingly hides a grub or 
insect. The table is always set and the food is 
always prepared. Free lunch, twelve baskets 
and more of fragments always left. The larger 
birds I presume would find it difficult to subsist 
at the North duriug the coldest weather. I saw 
yesterday a fine specimen of the downy wood- 
pecker, one of the handsomest of the tribe. It 
was a sharp cold morning and the birds generally 
were not very lively, but downy showed no sign 
that the weather had anything to do with his 
welfare. He went his way merrily, putting a 
new note of brightness into the parson^ s daily 
life. 



One of the birds that comes to us every fall 
from the North bears the name of the golden- 
crowned kinglet. The ruby-crowned kinglet is 
first cousin to the above named and usually ap- 
pears in company with it. Both birds are dimin- 
utive fellows, but make up in activity what they 
lack in size. From what I see of them I judge 



i64 BIRD PARADISE 

that their winter's supply of food is obtained the 
same as the woodpecker's. In fact, when they 
reach this section they seem to be feasting most 
of the time. What their song is I do not know. 
Their call note, which they use during the vaca- 
tion season, has very little that is musical in it. 
It is hardly more than the softest note of the com- 
mon cricket. The kinglets are usually in com- 
pany with the warblers and are like them in their 
habits. I am told they sometimes nest in North- 
ern New York, but never have seen them in the 
breeding season. Occasionally they linger in 
this section through the winter, but as a rule they 
journey southward to the vicinity of the Gulf. 
The stirring way in which they do things insures 
their welcome almost anywhere. Talkers and 
doers with all their might is a bird introduction 
that savors of our feathered friends at their best. 



Some of the smaller animals seem to have no 
other place that they enjoy quite so well as the 
habitations of men. Conspicuous among these 
fellows is the brown rat. I am told that he does 
a great and good work as a scavenger, and very 
likely he does, but his careless way of doing it 
seems to entail upon somebody else an endless 



BIRD PARADISE 165 

amount of the scavenger business. A pair of the 
fellows set up housekeeping in my cellar last fall. 
In one week they explored every part of it and 
made some outside journeys also. They sampled 
potatoes, cabbages, beets, and in fact they levied 
tribute upon about everything there, but the 
stroke they put in largest was among the apples. 
In three days' time, before I suspected what was 
going on, they literally chewed up the top layer 
in several crates, just simply to get at the seeds. 
Of course I could see from the rat's standpoint 
that he was doing nothing worthy of death. His 
business was to get what he wanted to eat and get 
it in his own way. I freely granted all that, but 
just at this juncture the parson's business came 
in, interposing serious obstacles in the way of the 
depredators. Chewing being their forte they 
were allowed to practice it freely. Returns from 
the scheme so far are most encouraging to every- 
body but the rats. Their condition, however, is 
such that they do not complain. 



The wisest looking of our many birds seems to 
know almost the least. To look wise is no large 
evidence of being wise. Owls certainly carry 
about with them the Solon countenance, and just 



i66 BIRD PARADISE 

as certainly the weakness of the novice in the af- 
fairs of every-day life. Born and reared in dark- 
ness, all their training received under the cloud, 
it is not at all strange that they look what they 
are not. In active life, however, they exhibit 
some traits of fair common sense. That trick of 
flying with scarcely a tremor of noise they prac- 
tice to perfection. Using their eyes freely, not 
only in the twilight but in the dark, without the 
least particle of injury to the sight, is another 
device which they employ daily ; keeping almost 
entirely out of touch with light and the things of 
light is one of their largest virtues. Holding lit- 
tle intercourse with their own kith and kin, and 
for that matter with all other kith and kin. They 
go on their way songless, in fact, less almost all 
the bright, cheery things of life. No wonder that 
owl character gets into the limbos, plays a losing 
game from first to last. No wonder that the off- 
flavor in its make-up enlarges steadily, no wonder 
that they shut all the doors in their house which 
scarcely needs a door. '' Why should not such a 
fellow's vernacular become simply a hoot?" I 
have every reason to believe, however, that the 
owl is one of the creatures of which it is written, 
^' And God saw it was good. " The parson greets 
him as a member of the great family born from 



BIRD PARADISE 167 

above, even if he finds no little difficulty in tracing 
his lineage upward. The feat is also a difficult 
one in other directions. 

It occurred to the parson that Monday morning 
would be an ideal time for a large mushroom 
harvest. Wind and weather seemed favorable, 
and the inclination of the hunter set strongly in 
the mushroom direction. With the first stroke 
of light I found myself in the field, but did not 
find the mushrooms. Wandering through the 
tall weeds, in the dim light, I became conscious 
that another fellow was wandering there also. 
Jiist what it was I could not make out until we 
both came out into an open space in the pasture. 
Then I discovered that my companion was a large 
and well-mannered skunk. I stopped and the 
skunk stopped. I said nothing, so did the skunk. 
It occurred to me that ten feet was not quite as 
far from the fellow as I would really like to be. 
Still, as he made no belligerent demonstrations, 
I did not quite like the idea of beating a retreat 
immediately. So I found myself doing the other 
thing, shaking hands metaphorically, of course, 
with my companion. I noted his suit of black, 
nicely striped with white, the great bushy tail, 
and the eyes, wary and watchful. I had heard a 



i68 BIRD PARADISE 

great deal of the power of man in looking wild 
animals straight in the eye, and I rather wanted 
to try the scheme. So I looked, and the skunk 
looked. All at once he pushed that look of his a 
little nearer the parson. His advance was met 
by the parson's advance, but rearward. The look 
squarely in the eye was in the skunk's favor. The 
scheme worked, but not quite as I expected. After 
all, I said — a crumb of comfort in the saying — 
why shouldn't the skunk win in the contest? It 
was his home domain. 

In the changes that have taken place in our hill 
country I notice the practical disappearance of 
the night-hawk. In my boyhood sixty years ago 
they were a common bird in this section. Fre- 
quently in the fall of the year they would appear 
just at night in large flocks passing until long 
after dark. They have many characteristics in 
common with the whippoorwill, being sometimes 
mistaken for that bird. A call note or two com- 
prises their entire song. A sound they make in 
flying has a harsh, whistling stroke peculiar to 
this bird alone. It is now thought that it is pro- 
duced by the action of the air in the open mouth 
of the bird. Curious that this species of bird 
should ignore nest building almost altogether. 



BIRD PARADISE 169 

Any smooth, hard surface in the fields or on the 
roofs of houses will serve the purpose, the eggs 
being shaped so that they will not roll about. 
Its name of hawk is a misnomer, there being 
nothing of the hawk nature in the bird^s make-up. 
Their food is taken on the wing — consisting al- 
most entirely of insects. We saw them in large 
numbers on the great plains of Oklahoma, that 
latitude being their winter home. I noticed that 
the whippoorwills and night-hawks were quite 
close friends during their stay in the South. 
Curious how their habits changed as they sought 
the new home in the South. There we saw them 
on the ground searching for food. I do not re- 
member that I ever saw them doing this at the 
Northern home. Their record reads ''good fel- 
lows wherever they are." 

Just as I was ready to pen these notes I glanced 
from my study window, and on the limb of the 
fir tree, not fifteen feet from where I was sitting, 
one of our medium sized hawks was standing, 
holding securely an English sparrow which he 
had just caught. He went deliberately to work 
preparing his prize for breakfast. For twenty 
minutes and more the fellow kept his perch, tak- 
ing his meal as deliberately as though he were 



I70 BIRD PARADISE 

<joncealed in the depths of the wood. I never be- 
fore had seen a hawk of this species at this 
season of the year or so near the house. The 
feasting was not an attractive scene, neither was 
the capture and killing in keeping with perfect 
peace and quiet in the kingdom of nature. No 
doubt many persons would be perfectly willing 
that the English sparrows fall into the talons of 
the hawks as rapidly as possible. I am not in 
favor of depriving the bird of any species of its 
natural food. Now and then the sparrow is 
serving its country best, perhaps, as an offering 
to appease the hunger of a fellow bird, and very 
likely a somewhat diversified diet is better for the 
hawk ; at any rate, the order in nature is the one 
to observe, whether we are quite satisfied with its 
working or not. 

I discovered this morning in my orchard a lit- 
tle tree sparrow. He was sitting in the tree, a 
pretty sharp northwest wind ruffling his feathers. 
To my surprise he trilled a part of his summer 
song. It sounded strangely so late in the season, 
and yet seemed most delightful. I watched the 
fellow a few moments, thinking perhaps he would 
betray the secret of his wandering and singing so 
long after the usual time, but nothing came of it, 



BIRD PARADISE 171 

except another section of the song. Doubtless 
the first effort was the begetting of the second, 
both cheery and bright as heart could wish. 
Usually late in the fall the sparrows go in troops, 
several species appearing in the same flock. This 
fellow, however, was alone, not another bird of 
any kind in his company. His cheery way of 
being alone was the attractive thing in his man- 
ner. I half suspected from his behavior that he 
had sojourned in my orchard for the express pur- 
pose of visiting the old place where the summer 
breezes rocked his cradle last June. I con- 
jectured this because he acted very much as the 
parson does when he tarries within the precincts 
of the old home farm. Curious how we measure 
others by ourselves, and yet who shall say that it 
is other than well-balanced measurement ? Some 
of my best moments are passed in those reminis- 
cent reveries under the roof tree of the old home, 
and I enjoy keenly seeing others as I see myself. 
Sparrow went his way, off into the great '' void 
immense,'' but his visit so bright and cheery left 
a large blessing behind him. 

There is some change taking place in the habits 
of our birds. On a recent morning as I was doing 
a, little pleasant work in the garden I heard the 



172 BIRD PARADISE 

full song of the vesper sparrow, and soon after a 
bluebird caught the spirit of the occasion and 
poured forth the gentle note which he knows so 
well how to do. Bird songs in October are so un- 
common that I scarcely recall a like departure 
from the regular order in all my years. I do not 
know of even the shadow of a reason why it can- 
not be every year. I cannot uncover any reason 
why they should not take the song with them to 
their Southern home, and use it freely through 
the winter. But nothing of the kind appears. I 
have seen and known them all in their Southern 
home and beyond a simple call note they indulge 
in nothing that can by any means be construed 
as musical. The morning that I heard them was 
a bright, clear morning — a real song among the 
days of song. The music of the hour no doubt 
loosened the bird tongues to a refrain that was 
compelled almost against the will of the singer. 
I am quite sure that such compulsion will not do 
any harm. On the contrary it may be that it is 
the opening of a new day — a forward march on 
the part of the birds to whole years of song. 
Strange is it that the speech of our feathered 
friends should shape itself in a single mold, 
never departing from it in the way of improve- 
ment through the years. 



BIRD PARADISE 173 



One of the interesting dwellers in our fields is 
the grass frog. They make their appearance in 
the month of September, at least that is the sea- 
son in which I am pretty sure to interview them. 
Crossing the field the other day I was given the 
opportunity to shake hands with several of them 
and found real pleasure in making the best of 
the occasion. The largest of the company was 
full grown, and when I put him to the test he 
easily compassed five or six feet in one jump. 
His bright green coat was trimmed in frog fash- 
ion, and when the sunbeams held him in their 
embrace the fellow shone almost lamp-like in 
the thick dried grass. No other creature is less 
ofi'ensive in appearance or manners. The eyes 
were almost brilliant and I fancied that the fel- 
low was really proud of his personal appearance. 
He verified an old saying, that no one could tell 
which way or how far a frog would jump by his 
looks. The smallest one I saw was a youth just 
launched on the sea of life. His experience in 
caring for himself was certainly limited and yet 
he made a real success of the venture. Alone in 
the great world he surely was, but nothing in his 
manner showed the least sign of any hesitation 
about assuming all the duties of life. In the 



174 BIRD PARADISE 

evening I heard a member of this family making 
the corridors of my orchard resound with the 
notes of the frog song. It was a cheerful effort, 
and not entirely lacking in the element of music. 



The season moves steadily forward to the ripe- 
ness and fulness of the fall. Notwithstanding 
the drought, almost all the growth of field and 
garden has matured perfectly. The ripening of 
the year has come early and come in large meas- 
ure. What volumes of life are crowded into one 
perfect vegetable of any kind. Months of growth 
are there. A dozen different agents have given 
all the assistance in their power. Subtle currents 
of many kinds have poured into the being of 
plant and fruit all their best, and the result is 
that wondrous creation that in every stage of its 
process is, "He spake, and it was done.'^ In 
the ordinary year there is the ordinary return — 
ripeness gauged to a standard that is far below 
the royal one. "The King in His beauty'^ is 
what we all want to see, and not only see, but be 
the very thing we see. Garden, farm, business, 
— anything that our hands find to do has its 
larger value in the hands perfected in the doing. 
In the perfect season, the imperfect work may 



BIRD PARADISE 175 

give a marvelous return, but the height to climb, 
— the mark to hit, is the imperfect season so 
ordered that it shall give the perfect return. 
Why is it not the secret of life's best endeavor! 
Why is it not the servant's place, in the image 
of Him who called man into being and gave him 
the world to conquer, yea, recreate ! In the light 
of such a thought my vegetables are iustructors 
in righteousness of no mean stature. They sim- 
ply bid the parson to strike hands with the life 
that thrills in plant and tree, keeping the clasp 
firm and strong, until the two are one — life below 
is perfected in the life above. 



Occasionally I see a small flock of the golden 
plovers. In olden time they came to us in the 
fall of the year in large numbers — now we rarely 
see them. Far up in the arctic regions they do 
all their housekeeping, coming to us in Septem- 
ber and October. The range of their flight I am 
told is the entire extent of l^orth and South 
America. Some writers aver that the autumn 
journey of a portion of this bird host is down 
the Atlantic coast — the entire distance to South 
America being compassed in a single flight. I 
recall an instance when we were taking one of 



176 BIRD PARADISE 

our long missionary journeys in Oklahoma that 
the golden plover furnished us with most of our 
food. The two Indian men that were with me 
tried the scheme of securing a few of the birds. 
Their success was the small return of securing 
the single bird at a time. In the lesson which I 
put into their keeping a single discharge of the 
fowling-piece was the measure of a dozen birds. 
Most delicious they were, roasted slowly by the 
camp-fire. I fancy that there is not a voyager in 
the plover host that has not looked in upon the 
North Pole and all its surroundings. The flight 
of the plovers — all the species — is hardly ex- 
celled in grace and beauty by any other bird. 
Think of the strength required, in three or four 
thousand miles of passage, where there is no stop 
for rest or food ! With such facilities for travel- 
ing there is no place in the extent of this world 
that lies beyond their reach. Cooks and Pearys 
every bird of the entire host ! 



In my long stroll this morning I saw the tracks 
of mice, skunks, rabbits, foxes and squirrels. In 
the great ravine I saw where the dogs had fol- 
lowed Mr. Pox into his quarry den. I heard the 
calls of crows, blue jays, woodpeckers, chickadees, 



BIRD PARADISE 177 

robins and bluebirds. The song of all songs 
that I heard came from the brook as it rippled 
down the gorge. What a gentle murmur it is, 
and how it seems to absorb and make its own all 
other sounds. I stood where I could look down 
into the glen, the brook dancing along a hundred 
feet below me. How wild and weird it all ap- 
peared. I saw again the boy of sixty years ago 
— the old boy in the new boy, and the new in the 
old, and someway the vision seemed the most 
rosy of anything I saw in my long walk. I 
found that part of the fun of seeing one boy was 
seeing several others, all intent upon doing the 
wood in true boy style. I knew the voices. The 
peals of laughter that echoed through the wood 
were all known to the man or boy. The great 
trees seemed to greet the boys with an old time 
*' All hail." What an hour it was and how 
much it held. It was a sort of drawing aside of 
the great curtain that after all only slightly veils 
the home of homes. A great sacrament it seemed, 
with its inward and spiritual grace, the grace at 
its best, the revelation of life as the Master un- 
folds it in the Father's house. 

What a variety of pranks our wild creatures 
indulge in ! My attention was attracted this 



178 BIRD PARADISE 

morning by the cones falling from the spruce 
trees. It was perfectly still, no wind blowing. 
I soon discovered that a red squirrel was loosen- 
ing them one by one, and apparently enjoying 
the entire effort as a real pastime. I counted 
nineteen cones that came rattling down in about as 
many minutes. Just a stroke or two of bunny's 
hatchet and the work was done, and I rather 
think from what I see that those remaining on 
the tree will come down before night. Up to 
this time nothing has been done with the cones 
and I am quite sure that the squirrel has finished 
his work with them. Was it play on the squirrel's 
part or did he have some other motive? The 
other day I saw a flock of English sparrows 
romping through my lawn trees with no apparent 
object but that of play. They scurried hither 
and thither, even taking short flights out into 
the park and the village orchards. I took it all 
as real pastime on their part, though it may have 
had some other object. In my boyhood on the 
old farm I have known the different wild crea- 
tures to have their games, or what looked like 
them. Sometimes two or three different species 
would join together, making a kind of fun *'fast 
and furious." Meadow-larks and flickers quite 
frequently join their forces and I have seen them 



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Squirrel Home 



BIRD PARADISE 179 

enjoying what looked like bird coasting. The 
hill sloping down to the western gate of Bird 
Paradise was a favorite place for their gather- 
ings. Sometimes they would spend hours there, 
all passing peaceful and pleasant. There are 
more things in the world of birds than our 
knowledge has yet dreamed of. 



During the past week the weather has opened 
some of its treasures to those who care to add 
such wealth to their possessions. Very gently 
the south wind went to sleep as the curtains of 
night were put in place. The night journeyed 
on until the stroke of twelve. Then a new order 
of things was given the entire freedom of our 
broad hill country. The northwest took charge 
of the wind and almost at the first stroke made a 
perfect success of the venture. There were two 
or three rushes, followed by as many roars, and 
the echoes everywhere were awake and doing. 
The commotion was such that I ventured to look 
out upon the scene. Snowflakes filled the air. 
The wind jollied them and kept them in motion. 
There seemed to be an understanding between 
the two that the occasion was to be made the 
carnival of the season. The morning broke and 



i8o BIRD PARADISE 

the storm sang a new song, under the inspiration 
of the cheery sunbeams. All day long the breezes 
had sway, and I felt sure that there was no weak 
spot in their efforts. Someway I fancied that the 
friction of such ardent endeavor would send the 
mercury toward the stars. On the contrary it 
gave the atmosphere a chill that was measured 
exactly by the cipher mark. Not a sign any- 
where that really looked like the least expendi- 
ture of effort. The winds ran their course, the 
cold kept pace with them, all of it, the beginning 
and continuing, that is sure to seek and get its 
own. Ah, my brothers, the winds and cold and 
storm ! The story of the day, rich in the min- 
istry of '^ Sky Pilots" that guide their airy craft 
safely, let the danger be what it may. 



My flock of English sparrows seems to increase 
in numbers. Very likely the young fellows that 
are now on the wing account in good part for the 
increase. I could certainly get on nicely with 
the flock reduced at least one-half. In fact they 
might all be away for a day or two and things 
at the rectory go on prosperously. Still the little 
fellows have a place, and in that place make up 
a part of my household that I should not like to 



BIRD PARADISE i8i 

spare permanently. I rather enjoy their ener- 
getic, offhand way of using an enemy. Only last 
week a red squirrel looked in upon my lawn, 
thinking, perhaps, to enjoy its quiet for a little 
time undisturbed. Never did a squirrel reckon 
more completely without his host. The sparrows 
discovered him and in less time than it takes me 
to tell it hustled him off toward the swamp, 
every part of his small body sore with the blows 
he received. I am quite sure some of the habits 
of the sparrows are changing. I see them using 
more insects and worms this season than any 
season before. The one lame thing about them 
is their song. It seems to be the same shaky 
apology for bird song that it was when I first 
heard it. They appear to have no realizing sense 
that it lacks anything. At least they go on using 
it as though it were the song of songs among the 
birds. Ah, such broad gleams of human nature 
as appear among the birds ! The day of creature 
life declares it and I suppose always will. 



When the storm was at its height I heard the 
calls of the crows mingled with those of the blue 
jays — all somewhat chilly like the temperature 
of the air. I noticed that the crows put forth no 



i82 BIRD PARADISE 

effort to make headway against the storm. They 
were content to keep well within the shelter of 
the woods and hills through the entire day. 
When one did venture from the coverts the wind 
tossed him to and fro with the greatest ease. I 
am sure there is no other sight in the wide house 
of nature more comical than the crow when the 
great winds are upsetting all his plans. I have a 
notion that the humor of the experience helps 
warm the entire flock. Does the sharp cold 
weather give a new lustre to the glossy suits of 
the black fellows ? I fancy that it does ; at least 
so it appears to me. Perhaps on a day of wind 
and storm there are great compensations which 
the crow knows and enjoys. I have tried a num- 
ber of times to look in upon them when they 
were shut in to one of their forest fastnesses, but 
never with a very large measure of success. 
Some of them are always on guard and the ap- 
proach of a stranger is sure to be heralded to the 
entire company. The blue j ay has several marked 
characteristics that give him close kinship with 
the crow. Neither does any migrating that we 
know about. Both have voices that are wholly 
free from all musical tones. So far as I know 
they have no friendships with other birds. Per- 
haps their relation to other birds is best expressed 



BIRD PARADISE 183 

by the Ishmaelite condition, ^ ' Hand against 
every man. " Living such a life is sure to outlive 
all that is princely in real being. Curious, these 
birds, a long way from the fellowship that is per- 
fect, and still my friends. Ah, there is a twang 
to that that fits the human bow exactly. 



Friday night was given to a snow carnival that 
threw a great coverlid at least a foot in thickness 
over all the fields. It came without a particle of 
wind, a revelation of Mother Nature's handiwork 
not often seen. The trees held the crystals in 
great quivering masses, while over the roofs of 
the buildings it was curled and festooned like a 
living creatui'e. I heard the gentle breathing of 
the storm at times through the night, and was 
somewhat prepared for the morning's revelation. 
With the coming of the sun the storm died away, 
leaving the earth clothed in its great mantle of 
white. An hour later the wind looked out from 
its western fastness and followed the look with a 
bound that fairly filled the snow particles with 
new life. The trees shook down their fleecy 
mantle and everywhere over the fields the char- 
iots of snow were driven with a free hand. Here 
and there the drifts were shaped, no two of them 



i84 BIRD PARADISE 

telling the same story. Just beyond Roost Cot- 
tage the wind carried the snOw particles and so 
dropped them that they lay in a great pile of al- 
most perfect shaping. Back of the schoolhouse 
and sheds the frolicking snow was given a resting 
place that grew into a lone parapet, its crest ten 
feet from the ground. Down in the field in full 
sight from my study window I notice a long line 
of drifts that show the curves and moldings of 
most styles of architecture. How does the wind 
ill its careless way throw the snow together, 
shaping so many beautiful things ? All my life I 
have seen and known of the work, but someway 
do not fathom the mystery much more than I did 
at first. ^' Fulfilling somebody's will " — long ago 
that was a discovery made by man, and the par- 
son hears and heeds. 



The advent of the snow has been a revelation to 
the foxes. I am not sure that they like the snow 
and cold ; still, as far as I can see, that is the 
impression they give me. While the ground is 
bare I rarely see one of them, and when I do he 
seems to be away from home. To be seen as well 
as to see seems to be an important element in 
Mr. Fox's character, and the broad snow carpet 



BIRD PARADISE 185 

brings him into large prominence as he goes 
blithely on his way. One of his favorite strolls 
is along the slope of Simmons' Hill. If nothing 
is hurrying him he will take abundance of time 
and the trail he leaves behind is a very clear in- 
dex of a quiet spirit. When the hounds are 
sounding their horn — even though it be some dis- 
tance away — the movements of the fox betoken a 
condition of mind filled with alarm. I rather like 
to see the fellow illustrating both conditions. 
Someway I get something out of each condition 
that gives one a clearer vision of the creature so 
wild and alert. Not much occurs anywhere in 
their vicinity that they are not conscious of. I 
have seen them when the faint squeak of a mouse 
arrested their attention and set every faculty of 
their being on the alert. What hunters they are ! 
I know of no other wild animal that can hear and 
see so much as the fox. And when once his at- 
tention is aroused he is almost sure to secure the 
quarry that comes into the range of his knowledge. 
Many things in the character of the fox I like, 
still I do not want him too friendly. 



In the thick fog this morning a company of 
crows became wholly lost. I heard the flapping 



i86 BIRD PARADISE 

of their wings and a little later their loud calls. 
Looking out I saw the party trying to find their 
way out to the daily feeding grounds. Their 
method of getting on was lumbering and heavy, 
and for a time seemed not much more than mov- 
ing heavily in rather of a contracted circle. They 
came down quite close to the ground, dodging 
here and there among the trees, evidently entirely 
lost. Some of their movements were most ludi- 
crous, especially the appearance of surprise when 
their best endeavor only brought them around to 
the place they started from a few minutes before. 
I put in a few shouts accompanied by clapping 
of hands. It was an element in the day's expe- 
rience which apparently they had not calculated 
upon. It made the parson a sort of storm centre 
in the flock of dusky fellows, and such a hustling 
as followed the shouts was an exhibition of crow 
movement where none stayed upon the order of 
his going. In two or three minutes the entire 
flock had scattered out in every direction, and I 
could hear them talking the matter over, no 
doubt laying blame upon the parson for his 
rude interference with their well-laid plans. I 
found some consolation in the fact that the crows 
in the same situation would have emulated my 
action to the very letter. No other creature in 



BIRD PARADISE 187 

the range of my knowledge enjoys a real joke any 
more than a crow. 



Occasionally I hear of one of the little grebes 
being seen in our hill country. The fellows are 
active and in some ways interesting, but why 
they should with their equipment seek the snow- 
covered fields is a mystery. On the wing or in 
the water they find their way quickly and are 
more or less graceful in all their movements. 
But when they attempt to practice walking they 
show in every movement the ungainly efforts of 
the novice. I suppose that we are sometimes 
favored with their visits, through the agency of 
a great storm. I am told that the heavy winds — 
finding them on the wing near the coast — drives 
them far inland before they can effect a landing. 
Under such conditions, they seem to lose all 
realizing sense of where they are or of where 
they desire to go. A few years since, a large 
number of these birds were given a shipwreck 
of this character, hundreds of the creatures ap- 
pearing in Central New York. Most of them 
perished, only a very few being able to get back 
again to the old home. Being water birds they 
depend upon the brooks and open ponds for their 



i88 BIRD PARADISE 

food, all of which in our severe cold weather are 
virtually closed to them. The grebe is furnished 
with two local names — dipper and dabchick. 
They nest far to the north, and I am told the 
nest is most singular among the many curious 
nests of birds. One writer says : " Imagine a 
little floating island of mud anchored securely 
to a marshy bank. Place in the centre, nearly 
level with the surface of the water, a handful of 
grass and leaves and you have the nest of the 
dabchick. Frequently the water, as it is moved 
by the wind, sways the nest back and forth and 
ofttimes the eggs rest in the water. All the same, 
however, to the grebe. The work of incubation 
goes on — the little family in due time graduating 
to the broad freedom of their watery home. Of 
course they have many enemies and the young 
are constantly exposed to their ravages, but 
enough escape of the annual brood to keep the 
number good." 

There seems to be an extra number of English 
sparrows spending the winter in our place. I 
am not sure that the extra number is massed in 
one flock as has been common heretofore. I see 
them everywhere in the village and every day 
on duty apparently with all their might. Their 



BIRD PARADISE 189 

winter supply of food is somewhat circumscribed, 
but like many other species of birds they can get 
on for several days very well with a limited 
amount of food. From the parson's standpoint 
it would be a nice thing for them to migrate and 
spend the winter in the South. We could spare 
them here at the North and the outing I think 
would do them good. I should miss their games, 
if they are games, and there is a certain kind of 
cheerfulness about them even when they engage 
in their battles that is nice to contemplate. If 
the fellows are ever conscious of the many changes 
of weather in our inclement season they rarely 
ever show it. Heat and cold seem to affect them 
about alike and both are greeted cheerily so far 
as I can see. Really there is some good in the 
English sparrow. 

With the advent of the snow-bunting we may 
count our winter as fully launched. I have heard 
the calls of these birds several times, but as yet 
have not seen any of them. True to their usual 
practice they first people the air several hundred 
feet above the fields below. I have a notion that 
the fellows spend three or four days on the wing 
when they first arrive in our section. I hear 
them passing sometimes in the night, giving out 



I90 BIRD PARADISE 

the same call they do in the daytime. I hear 
them, too, several days before I see them — pretty 
good evidence that they have very little inter- 
course with sublunary things when they first 
reach their winter haunts. Of all our birds it 
seems to me that bunting has the best right to 
bear the name of snowbird of any that I know. 
His color, song and habits all tend snow ward, 
and I know of no other creature that gets quite 
so near to the heart of the cold driving storm. 
When bunting gets his wings into close touch 
with the wings of the storm both storm and bird 
seem to delight in the fellowship. One of my 
free gramophones has place in my *^ house beau- 
tiful " when bunting and storm join as one in a 
carnival of song. Someway the songs are all old 
and just as clearly all new. No repetitions ever, 
naught in the entertainment they give but the 
blessed unison of voices that never pall upon the 
eager taste of 'Hhe ear that hears.'* 



I have seen this week a small flock of yellow- 
birds. They came into the field near the rectory 
and really seemed to act as though they were just 
home from a foreign land. I have the notion 
that birds, like human beings, have times of 



BIRD PARADISE 191 

genuine homesickness. While they live after a 
manner that makes every place home, there are 
places that stand first on the heights of their re- 
gard. I interviewed the flock I saw but elicited 
nothing touching their whereabouts since the nest- 
ing season closed. From what I have seen I con- 
clude that they took a trip well up into Canada. 
They had nothing really to do, that is from my 
standpoint, and a journey would pass the time 
for them and perhaps help fit them for the varied 
experiences of the winter season. Of all our 
small birds the yellowbird is the last one that I 
should expect would remain at the North during 
the cold weather. His size and his clean bird 
character would seem to fit him perfectly for a 
sojourn in the sunny South. I have seen a bird 
there that resembled our yellowbird closely, but 
I could not ascertain to just what species he be- 
longed. Of course if he found his way south- 
ward in the winter we should lose his cheery 
presence — a change in our cold season that we 
would be loth to have occur. The little fellow 
uses a very pleasant call note in the winter and 
in all his actions is everywhere as bright and 
lively as he appears in the summer. A little 
later they will gather in large flocks, ranging over 
the fields among the merriest of our winter birds. 



192 BIRD PARADISE 



It is a curious fact that nearly all of our winter 
birds rank below the average as singers. They 
have little to put aside when they drop all the 
songs they use. I have recently seen an article 
where the writer speaks very highly of the blue 
jay as a singer. He kept one in a cage for a 
number of years and of course had an excellent 
opportunity to learn all the musical facts the 
bird could furnish him. I have heard their 
sharp calls and some of the softer notes, of which 
the writer speaks, but nothing that I could term 
a real bird song. The little chickadee uses his 
song throughout the year and it is most attract- 
ive, though brief. None of the woodpeckers, 
so far as I know, use anything that could pos- 
sibly be rightfully entitled a song. Burroughs 
speaks of the rattling noise they make high up 
on some dead dry limb as a sort of apology for 
a song and possibly his surmise may be correct. 
Snow-bunting trills a few notes as he passes high 
up in the air, but his real song he reserves for the 
nesting season later in the spring. Yellowbird 
follows the same rule, using in the winter only a 
brief call note. If the matter were left to me to 
decide, I should certainly have some of the regu- 
lar song dispensed in the midst of the frost and 



BIRD PARADISE 193 

cold. Still, if my knowledge were to decide the 
questioD, I can readily understand that the whole 
scheme might read ^* failure, from first to last." 



Occasionally during the winter I hear the call 
of the owls from out of the darkness — weird 
speech of the night. If there be any bird of our 
many species whose language appears to be en- 
tirely appropriate to the occasion then it seems 
to me the owl is that bird. He has no concep- 
tion, I am sure, of anything that could be called 
a song. The most attractive sound he makes is 
a little more than a gruff outburst of muffled syl- 
lables that are most honored by being forgotten 
as soon as possible. If the owl knows about his 
place among the creatures, knows how he has 
lived and is living, then one would suppose that 
his vision would be heavily freighted with dis- 
couragement. I cannot see in all the years I 
have known him that he has made a single par- 
ticle of improvement in any direction. His walk 
and talk, his living by night and by day, his en- 
tire endeavor in being an owl all seem to be ex- 
actly the same they were sixty years ago. It 
would seem that threescore years ought to show 
some improvement if any had been made. Be 



194 BIRD PARADISE 

that as it may, there he is, wrestling with the 
owl problems of life, and it may be, solving 
more of them than we think. I have thought 
sometimes that if there was some way by which 
I could record the fellow's adventures as he goes 
about in the dark it would be a book well worth 
perusing. I judge from the little I know of his 
life during the winter that there are days when 
he has no knowledge of anything that he 
could term his daily bread. Possibly when the 
snow is deep and the cupboard bare he may 
journey southward, but if he does we have no 
knowledge of it. Some day we may know him 
better. 

One of our most interesting small birds bears 
the name of nuthatch. There are two species — 
the white and the red-breasted. Six inches will 
fully measure the length of the bird, but his ac- 
tivity is so great that I sometimes think him 
much longer. The white-breasted species is the 
most common and can be easily distinguished by 
the color of its plumage and by its peculiar call. 
The back is a lightish blue, and the breast white. 
The song is an incessant repeating of the sound 
'' guank." The range of the little fellow is over 
most of North America. He knows nothing of 



BIRD PARADISE 195 

migration, being a common resident the year 
through. Holes in the trees or posts furnish 
them with nesting places, which they line with 
feathers and fine grass. A pair have nested in 
this vicinity this season and I have seen them 
almost every day. There is a sort of domestic 
flavor to their song that renders it attractive and 
the movements of the little fellows in the trees 
are always interesting. I know of no other bird 
that can assume so many different attitudes in 
the same length of time. I sometimes think 
their favorite position is the reverse order of the 
head downward. One writer states that he has 
seen them when asleep in this posture. In my 
boyhood this species of birds was a citizen of the 
woods almost wholly. Now, however, they are 
common in the lawn trees and orchards. I know 
of nothing that is harmful that can be attributed 
to them. They are favorites with all bird lovers. 



A neighbor of mine, out of the wealth of a kind 
heart, sets a winter table for the birds. It is 
spread on the back porch of her house and is 
patronized by quite a large number of happy 
guests. I notice in the company woodpeckers, 
chickadees, sparrows, blue jays and occasionally 



196 BIRD PARADISE 

at night, I suppose an owl drops in, being the 
only feaster at that hour of the day. The birds 
that visit the place seem on peaceable terms with 
one another, which is not always the case, when 
they meet in the summer. They use their call 
notes freely, which is about all the song most of 
them have. The woodpeckers are not very talka- 
tive in the winter, though they appear lively and 
happy hearted. The chickadees are sprightly 
and use their entire song more freely, if possible, 
than in the summer. What cheery little fellows 
they are. The very tone of their voices is most 
attractive. Of course the English sparrow is on 
active duty wherever he finds anything to eat. 
His capacity for food is not excelled by that of 
any other bird. No other bird more talkative, 
and I half conjecture that no other bird really 
says less. For noise that reaches far and is high 
keyed, the blue jay furnishes a supply that is 
simply unrivaled among the feathered songsters. 
I think he enjoys using his voice and startling all 
birddom with the sharp, piercing sound. 



I hear that my crow friends are gathering in 
their winter haunts. Someway their wireless 
telegraphy has given them the news that has 



BIRD PARADISE 197 

brought them, almost to a crow, into the old 
places. I cannot conceive of any advantages 
which the weather j ast now extends to them. I 
don't know that the weather reaDy enters into 
the problem they have to solve very much. So 
far as I can see they go to and fro pretty much 
oblivious to everything else but something to eat. 
I see them going to their night's rest among the 
hemlocks in the old Addington woods — mercury 
dropping far below zero during the night. From 
every point of view that man commands the bed- 
chamber of the crow on such a night is about as 
cheerless as one can imagine. I have heard them 
from the old farm giving expression to some of 
their feelings and while the utterance was not 
particularly cheering, it had very little in it that 
one would regard as a protest against any of the 
surroundings. Once, I remember, the entire flock 
came rushing out of their bedchamber in the mid- 
dle of the night and after circling around for a 
time went off to a new place of rest on Frankfort 
Hill. We saw nothing of the cause of the dis- 
turbance, but conjectured that some prowling 
owl dropped in upon them, levying tribute for an 
early breakfast. The crow, I fancy, is not the 
custodian of a great deal of courage, at least he 
rarely uses the article even if he possesses it. 



198 BIRD PARADISE 



A friend writes me that he sets a table for his 
bird visitors supplied with bones and suet. He 
states that he has seen the downy woodpecker eat 
his fill then take a piece and carry it to an oak 
tree forty yards away and secure it in the shaggy 
bark. It is an instance of provision for the rainy 
day not common to any great extent with the 
birds and not common, in that particular way, 
with many of our animals. I have seen it with 
different species, but varied in the manner of 
doing so that no two acts appear to have much in 
common. A friend of mine, who resides near the 
large wood just west of the village of Clayville, 
described the action of downy woodpecker that 
really showed what had all the appearance of a 
process of reasoning. He came out of the wood, 
took his place on a maple tree that stood near my 
friend's house and after tapping it with his sharp 
bill in a dozen places flew away. The maple sap 
trickled down the rough trunk and the flies soon 
congregated in large numbers. Downy returned 
and feasted on the flies, his previous work ap- 
parently preparing the way for the feast. The 
shrike will sometimes store a small amount of 
food, but I know of no bird that will provide to 
any great extent for the future. Most of the 



BIRD PARADISE 199 

birds that stay with us during the winter have 
their food provided for them to such an extent 
that enforced fasting with them is rare. When 
their supply of food is shortened through stress of 
weather they can easily find their way to an 
abundant store all ready for use. 



One of my winter pleasures is a stroll along the 
swamp side. When the weather is right and the 
walking in keeping with it there is a very 
gracious return of pleasure, nicely distributed 
over every foot of the way. The other morning 
I bent my steps in that direction, and although 
the weather was not perfect nor the walking very 
satisfactory, still I managed to gather some real 
treasure during the hour. The evergreens wore 
the coats which give them their names, and I 
fancied their winter salutation had more life in it 
than the best that the summer gives. I rapped 
at the doors of the muskrat houses, but gathered 
no response. A flock of blue jays came out of 
the thickets near the hillside, and I am quite sure 
I never met them when they had more to say. 
Blue jay talk has the merit of abundant sound, 
but farther than that I am not prepared to pro- 
nounce upon its excellence. My cheery friends, 



200 BIRD PARADISE 

the chickadees, seemed to keep step with me dur- 
ing the entire walk in the vicinity of the swamp. 
I am sure I understand them, and am quite sure 
that they understand me. Half a dozen crows 
gave voice from the hilltop of the old farm and 
as I caught their hoarse accents, I easily reached 
the conclusion, ^'a good second to the rattling 
volleys of talk fired by the blue jays. ^' Eeturn- 
ing homeward, I saw where Mr. Fox had stepped 
lightly over the snow, his footsteps telling out 
the character of the merry-hearted fellow that 
made them. 



The woodpeckers are getting on their winter 
dress and manners. They have some trials in 
common, but each species is quite original after 
its kind. They are all peaceful fellows, in the 
main, though none of them will submit quietly to 
any extended abuse. Yellowhammer is only 
half measured in the woodpecker family ; still he 
honors handsomely the distinguishing traits of 
his race. Among the smaller birds he has size 
and strength, so that he has little to fear from his 
smaller companions. His activity insures safety 
from the birds of prey, so that on the whole he 
can behave in a natural manner. There is no 



BIRD PARADISE 201 

merrier bird, no bird that outdoes him in romp- 
ing, rollicking fun. When he speaks his language 
is full of a sort of ' ' hurrah boys ^ ' that wakes the 
echoes on every side. His playfulness is prover- 
bial ; in fact, all his work seems to be done in a 
playful manner. His eminent domain includes 
all the domain there is, and no citizen of his broad 
realm is ever other than a freeman, in thought, 
word and deed. His way of building his house or 
of training his children seems to secure the young 
birds from the trials and perils that most of the 
other species meet. I never have seen the young 
flickers tumbling around on the ground half 
fledged. Probably they have some experience 
of that kind but it has not come under my ob- 
servation. In short, yellowhammer goes and 
comes, works and plays, and no other bird illus- 
trates more completely than he the riches of 
hearty, whole-souled, merry bird life. 



Occasionally I see a woodpecker this winter, 
but so seldom that it hardly seems like one of our 
old time cold seasons. From what I see in the 
woods I judge that they are not present anywhere 
about here in their usual numbers. Possibly they 
are adopting the customs of other birds and are 



202 BIRD PARADISE 

taking a trip to the suiiDy South. If I were a 
woodpecker, as I am an observer, I think I should 
hie away to the soft air and open fields of the 
summer clime. But woodpecker no doubt knows 
his own business and adopts the best scheme pos- 
sible for his welfare. There is something in a 
true character, practically oblivious to the chang- 
ing moods of the weather, that is more or less in- 
spiring. Our winter birds appear to present this 
kind of character, and what is more noticeable, 
to rejoice in it. In the great ravine on the north 
side of Bird Paradise I find the woodpeckers 
usually when they are scarce everywhere else. 
The place has all the conditions of a winter resort 
for the fellows and they improve their oppor- 
tunity. I have not been there this winter, and 
it may be that the dearth of birds is in vogue 
there as elsewhere. Two of the gray woodpeck- 
ers and three or four sapsuckers make up the 
count in my lawn trees so far this season. 



It is seldom that a flock of wild geese is seen in 
our hill country. Last week a merry company 
of a hundred or more passed over on their way to 
their winter home. To the young people of the 
party every step of the way was a revelation. I 



BIRD PARADISE 203 

am told that the advanced guard of the migrating 
host consists entirely of young birds. Just how 
the wise ones know I am not informed, and I 
have my doubts about the statement holding all 
the truth. In my experience in Oklahoma I 
found that the old and young birds journeyed to- 
gether. I am quite sure that the old birds are the 
leaders of each flock. What plodders they are. 
All the night through they go steadily on their 
way seemingly little wearied by the effort. Dur- 
ing the day they spend considerable of the time 
on the ponds and along the streams. In my boy- 
hood it was a common thing to find them in the 
marshes near the old swamps, and our sportsmen 
secured them easily. Occasionally I have seen 
the large cranes here in company with the geese, 
though I doubt if they care to associate very much 
with each other. One of the most sombre objects 
in the wide house of nature is a crane stalking 
around in the shallows of one of our hill ponds. 
Handsome with them must be what handsome 
does, for the vision of their persons never re- 
veals it. 



A long walk across the fields this morning had 
many wintry aspects, and yet it was nicely punc- 



204 BIRD PARADISE 

tuated with delightful spring touches. Eobins 
and bluebirds were everywhere and every one 
seemed to have a song to sing. It was not entirely 
a concert conducted by the males, for many of 
the other sex were present and joined cheerily in 
the common refrain. Just how the fellows find 
food to satisfy them I cannot learn. There are 
bare spaces of ground, though most of the fields are 
still carpeted with snow. There is food tucked 
away in the grass, grubs and insects, and very 
likely they make use of this great cupboard 
freely. I notice that the bird life early in the 
spring is more spirited than at any other season 
of the year. Of course at that time they have a 
large amount of business on their hands, and it is 
business that they enjoy working at with all their 
might. Very nearly as soon as they arrive from 
the South they search through the trees for the 
right place to construct their summer cottage 
and if the weather is favorable they get right to 
work getting everything into shape. The early 
comers are none of them real adepts at nest build- 
ing. Eobin eschews all beauty in his work and 
bluebird makes little or no effort beyond the 
shaping of a house that serves all practical pur- 
poses. Each works out his own plan, and that 
meets all requirements in every case. 



I 



BIRD PARADISE 205 



Curious how the mild weather interferes with 
some of the plans of our winter birds. Several 
species go into hiding somewhere when the south 
wind mellows the temperature of the air. I 
never see or hear the buntings only when the 
winds and snow are holding one of their stirring 
carnivals. The yellowbirds rarely interview 
me in mild weather. So, too, the wood birds 
are not apt to call on the parson except when 
they come on the wings of the snow and the cold. 
I like the kind of character which rises to meet 
the occasion, especially when the occasion in 
wind and storm has become more or less for- 
bidding. Bunting's method of using a storm is 
an admirable one. He responds to its shouts 
and clamor in kind for kind. He sails with the 
wind any whither that the wind may please to 
take him. At such a time he trills his best song, 
as he also shows his greatest activity. What 
preachers the birds are. In fact, the fellows are 
living texts and the sermons, like the texts, are 
rich, I sometimes think, with the ** alive and 
dead and alive again forevermore.'^ 

Where do the crows sojourn for several weeks 
in the fall ? They disappear for a time, scarcely 



2o6 BIRD PARADISE 

oiie showing its dusky form during the time. 
The movement they make is not a necessity from 
lack of food, or stress of weather. It may have 
place through the desire for a greater variety of 
daily bread or it may be an outcome of the fel- 
low's love of adventure. Why not a North Pole 
in the crow world and why not many a Cook and 
Peary vicing in the strife to discover all there is 
to discover ? As I know the crow character, it 
has many curious traits and perhaps the love of 
adventure is not lacking in the list. I feel quite 
sure that there are times in the fellow's experi- 
ence when he indulges in a kind of drollery that 
might well be termed North Pole humor. At 
any rate it seems to have very little warmth in 
it. I sometimes cherish the notion that the crow 
host is marshaled — especially in the winter sea- 
son — by a leader that uses his authority accord- 
ing to a code of laws peculiar to the dusky army. 
Even among the smaller flocks there are indica- 
tions that lead one to conclude that many of their 
movements are shaped by one in command. 
They never leave their movements unguarded. 
I have verified this repeatedly. Wherever a 
flock of crows has assembled some prominent 
outlook is occupied by their scouts. The ap- 
proach of an enemy is announced by loud calls, 



BIRD PARADISE 207 

the tone of the call sounding the alarm. As a 
scavenger the crow ranks among the first. Al- 
most everything is fish that comes to his net. 



One of the Utica dailies describes the experi- 
ence of a dog in a short interview with a com- 
pany of English sparrows. When the ordeal 
was over the dog no doubt was a number of 
degrees wiser than he had ever been before. I 
have seen the same scheme put into operation by 
the sparrows on my lawn, only the animal dis- 
ciplined was a squirrel. Last fall my attention 
was attracted by an unusual noise in the maples 
front of the church. A little investigation re- 
vealed the fact that a squirrel had fallen into the 
hands of a company of English sparrows and 
they were squaring accounts with him for 
some of his depredations on their nests earlier in 
the season. Every bird was shouting at the top 
of his bird voice, and wings and legs and feet 
were mixed in a mass completely hiding the 
squirrel. After the mel6e had lasted a few min- 
utes the excited crowd rolled out of the tree like 
a ball. Down they went to the ground, the 
squirrel making frantic efforts to escape. He 
clambered up a tree and out to the old church 



2o8 BIRD PARADISE 

tower, every sparrow striking him hard and at 
the same time freeing his mind in the vehemence 
of sparrow speech. Through a crevice there the 
red fellow darted, escaping his persecutors by a 
most narrow chance. I am quite sure that a 
few minutes more of the sparrows' work would 
have ended Mr. Squirrel's career. I had little 
sympathy for him, knowing that he ^' was reap- 
ing as he had sown. " 



Occasionally the conditions on Paris Hill seem 
to be entirely favorable for a first-class storm. 
In some way last Sunday offered inducements 
that were freely accepted by the storm bureau, 
and in an incredibly short space of time were put 
to use that I have never seen excelled in our hill 
country. All day Saturday the skilled workmen 
were busy getting everything into shape for the 
carnival on Sunday. During the evening I 
could hear the legions gathering and I half 
fancied that the extra efforts of the wind were 
the stirring commands of the one in charge. A 
little after midnight the winds took full posses- 
sion of the occasion. When the morning came 
the scene had put on a demeanor that invested 
it with a grandeur not often seen in our winter 



BIRD PARADISE 209 

storms. Without any question everything in 
the realm of storms was wide awake, and doing 
its large best to make the undertaking a perfect 
success. Two or three times during the day I 
found my way out into the path of the winds. 
On each occasion naught but sure anchorage kept 
the parson from drifting away on the swelling 
tide. I almost envied the buntings that were 
riding the wild steeds of the sky, not in the 
least endangered by their apparently reckless 
venture. I could see no reason why the rush of 
the great winds should have any stay short of 
destruction on every hand, but the reason was 
there. On the tablet of the trusting heart it 
reads * ' thus far and no farther. " Absolute safety 
assured. Ah, the supremacy of that blessed 
truth clothes the storm in its robes of gracious 
beauty — every stroke of its hand a benediction 
of joy and love. 



Birds have very little affection for red squirrels, 
and bunny bears the feathered brothers no abid- 
ing good will. I notice that the English sparrow 
takes particular delight in making the fellow's 
life a burden to him. Last week a flock of a 
hundred sparrows and more discovered a red 



2IO BIRD PARADISE 

squirrel in my lawn trees. They gathered about 
him until he seemed the centre of a great ball 
of feathers. The contact was so close that the 
squirrel seemed perfectly bewildered. The ball 
of life went up and down the tree. Occasionally 
he would emerge from it and start off on his 
journey, but all in vain. The sphere of sparrows 
would roll over once or twice and the old order 
of things was reestablished. The babel of sounds 
which the sparrows emitted gave my lawn promi- 
nence throughout the village. The conflict went 
on for several minutes, the squirrel slowly work- 
ing his way toward the church as though he 
considered that a place of refuge. Finally he 
dropped into a half-concealed cavity in the trunk 
of the tree and his persecutors left him. I had 
no particular sympathy for him as I knew of his 
system of preying upon the eggs and young of 
the birds. 

Each successive year I find more and more 
reason to believe that the broad shelf of wood 
and ravine, stretching along the eastern slope 
from our village, was properly named when it 
received the title of Bird Paradise. I never 
stroll there without finding something that seems 
a real part of a paradise of birds. Each season 



BIRD PARADISE 211 

tells its own story, and tells it well. I listen 
to tlie story, and someway the last one told seems 
the best. Just now, the summing up of the 
year, in common parlance, reads, '' A tale that 
is told." But a tale that is rightly told, when 
one reaches the last word, opens simply to some- 
thing higher and more precious. The leaves 
that are all down from the trees tumble and 
rustle about, but have their higher mission of 
giving all their best to the new foliage that will 
come with the spring time. The trees, themselves 
bare and leafless, sway and bow in the winds, 
and every movement breathes through the wood 
the benediction of the ripeness and richness of 
the year. 

I heard this morning the plaintive call of the 
wood pewee. I have heard it oftener this season 
than any previous winter that I remember. What 
a sort of weird, weary note it is. It sounds as 
one might imagine the bird to feel — all alone in 
the snow and cold. This fellow belongs to the 
fly- catcher family and in the summer feasts upon 
the flies, which it catches on the wing. What it 
uses in the winter for food I do not know, but 
fancy he makes a virtue of necessity and lives 
largely without eating. Curious that many mem- 



212 BIRD PARADISE 

bers of this species migrate, while a portion of 
them stay at the North. One would rather like 
to know how they divide the responsibility, giv- 
ing each his duty to perform. In the domain of 
instinct, however, I can as readily understand 
how only a portion of those moved by it should 
obey its monitions as how all should. I appre- 
hend the birds know little or nothing concerning 
it at heart. I get nothing from them but the 
simple facts. 



A short visit from a little screech-owl one 
morning this week gave a sort of introduction 
to the day that rarely occurs in the parson^ s ex- 
perience. The fellow's call came from the trees 
on the front lawn. It was hardly light enough 
to detect his form but the weird hooting was 
easily a thing of the night. Of all the owls this 
smallest of all is gifted with a voice and use of 
it that distinguishes him among all his tribe. I 
failed to detect him in the trees but caught his 
hooting over and over. "What an uncanny sound 
it is and how it awakens the echoes of the dim 
morning light. A little later I heard him from 
the orchards east of the village and I conclude 
with the rising of the sun he went his way to the 



BIRD PARADISE 213 

coverts of the swamp. This smallest of the owl 
family is about the only representative of the race 
that we now have in our hill country. In my 
boyhood there were five or six different species. 
The cutting away of the forests, especially the 
large hollow trees, has effectually removed their 
lurking places so that most of them have jour- 
neyed to a more genial clime. I like the smaller 
fellow for his many traits that shine with the 
best of owl goodness. Of course he is not perfect, 
though he stands high in the ranks of birds of 
the night. Perhaps he does the best he can situ- 
ated just as he is. 



The bare branches swayed in the wind, cele- 
brating the change by strains of new music. 
Boy-like, I put my feet down into the thick 
carpet of leaves and went a long distance, enjoy- 
ing the rustle that resounded through the wood. 
Every little while I wakened some denizen of 
the place, that seemed to wonder what particular 
business the parson had disturbing the quiet of 
paradise. Just at the eastern outlook, a little 
bevy of chickadees gave greeting, and nothing 
else in the entire stroll was quite so cheery. The 
great hemlocks on the farther hillside bowed a 



214 BIRD PARADISE 

sombre welcome, and put the deeper tone into 
the music of the forest refrain. Seated on the 
edge of the ravine, I found special delight in 
tracing the brook as it wound along to the open 
field below. There were places where the sun- 
light filtered through the branches, turning the 
ripple of the stream into a pile of glittering 
jewels. But the carpet laid down so gently — 
woven so deftly — wide and long as all the wood 
— what a marvelous texture, and how easily it 
was fitted in all its parts. I could see great folds 
taken up and laid down again — no workman 
visible in all the change. 



My little screech-owl has now become a regular 
visitor. Just at dusk one day he appeared earlier 
than common and seemed to be in an unusually 
merry mood. He came close to the house, under 
my study window, and appeared not in the least 
shy. Like the crows, he was getting most of his 
food from the grass. If he has intelligence he 
makes no showing of it in his appearance, and I 
conclude that his social development is not more 
pronounced than his triumphs of intellect. Oc- 
casionally he gets a return from that small horn 
of his that really has something musical in its 



BIRD PARADISE 215 

make-up. I half coDJecture from, his manner 
that he is as much surprised at the outcome as 
any one else. When the snow hides the ground 
and most of the small birds are gone I am quite 
sure my small friend suffers with hunger. At 
such times in my boyhood we used to find the 
fellow seeking refuge in the old farm barns. 
Like other birds, however, he can suffer hunger 
for a time without much apparent discomfort. I 
suppose he knows all about the hours of dark- 
nass, but no one else is the wiser for it. I do not 
know that his deeds are evil, but he is a real 
lover of the darkness. In my small domain half 
the time belongs to Mr. Owl pretty much alone 
and in his way he seems to enjoy it. 



I had hardly thought that there were any fur- 
bearing animals left in our hill country to trap, 
but I am told that it is a business successfully 
prosecuted by a number of persons in our town. 
Living in Clayville is William White, who re- 
ceives quite an annual income from the furs he 
secures by trapping. Mink and skunk are the 
principal animals that he traps, though there are 
some others that he obtains more or less fre- 
quently. Think of having a line of traps along 



2i6 BIRD PARADISE 

the streams and among the ponds that requires an 
entire night to visit. See the equipment in the 
time of deep snow for such a journey. Snow- 
shoes, lantern, bag to place the spoils in and 
plenty of real manly resolution to face storms and 
the various vicissitudes of such an excursion. I 
can understand how it offers some inducements 
to one who cares to be induced in a stirring man- 
ner. Alone in Mother Nature's great house— the 
storm raging, winds and snow playing hide-and- 
seek among the hills — the darkness dense and 
black on every side, why not a place to realize 
fully that the winds are the winds of God, and all 
the forces of nature playthings in His gracious 
hands ? There are nuggets of pure gold in the 
realm of Nature that can only be picked up in 
such a manner. The trapper going out into the 
night may well consider himself the eye open to 
it all under the one, all-seeing eye. He holds in 
his keeping the key to the ten thousand mysteries 
all around him. To use the key is to unravel the 
mysteries, and the mysteries unraveled are open 
doors, every one of them in heaven. 



I do not know that the chickadees intend any 
special amount of good to any one by their daily 



BIRD PARADISE 217 

visits to our village, but I do know that the 
visits confer good. Like their Master and ours, 
they go about doing good, and that is about the 
only method I know of getting good. The real 
test of our doing that which is good lies in the 
consciousness that the river of life is flowing un- 
vexed through the rightful channels in our small 
domain. My chickadee friends may not know 
any such test, may not be conscious of conferring 
good upon anybody, but all the same they minis- 
ter most graciously to the human brother and, so 
far as I know, never leave undone what they 
ought to do. The song they use is instinct with 
the ** soul of wit," three or four notes measuring 
the entire refrain. On the other hand, the notes 
are of such a character that one never tires of 
their repetition. If I were to choose from all the 
bird songs the one charged with the most home- 
like notes, I should give the preference to the 
chickadee effort. I regard it as the finest antidote 
I know for homesickness. The little fellow goes 
to and fro, a perfect bird petition of ^'Give us 
this day our daily bread,'' and not only illus- 
trates the prayer handsomely, but shows in his 
living the answer wondrously complete. When 
I want a first-class sermon from a first-class 
preacher I take my place in the great temple not 



2i8 BIRD PARADISE 

made with hands, chickadee himself the text, and 
the message — the entire discourse a living breath 
from the courts above. 



On that one bright, clear morning of last week 
I noticed the birds were unusually lively. I saw 
them in my orchard and lawn tree and heard them 
from the trees in the park. Blue jay was promi- 
nent in sending out his call, not only in the fre- 
quent repetition but in its far-reaching power. 
Chickadee's mild-mannered speech was entirely 
in keeping with the bland character of the morn- 
ing. Two or three crows flying over said their 
say, and while it did not fit in very perfectly with 
the cheery offering of the day it was no doubt the 
best they could do. A little company of nut- 
hatches were busy in the maples near the church 
door, their soft voices blending nicely with the 
mild temperature of the morning. A downy 
woodpecker balanced in a friendly way on the 
limb a few feet from my study window as 
though he was an ambassador of peace from the 
great realm of the weather. Down in the pasture 
the goldfinches were breakfasting on the seeds of 
the weeds just at the fence side. I could hear 
their cheery call and occasionally see them flit- 



BIRD PARADISE 219 

ting from place to place. I said a real bird 
good-morning and followed it with my best greet- 
ing, cherishing the idea that somehow the birds 
knew what I meant. 



I am quite sure that two or three families of fox 
parishioners reside in my large parish. I see the 
tracks they leave in the snow and occasionally I 
see one out for the daily walk. In the White 
Creek ravine west of the village is one of their 
favorite haunts. Another is located in the gorge 
at Bird Paradise, and still another in the Smith 
woods on the Utica road. I think they rather 
enjoy locating their dwelling place in or near a 
stone quarry. Someway they seem to know that 
such a place is a retreat for them where they are 
practically safe from harm. Just now with the 
thick blanket of snow I have a notion that with 
all the fellow's resources he carries about with him 
a feeling of hunger most of the time. When he 
does get out on one of his strolls he frequently 
passes along the slope of Simmons' Hill. His 
movements are free and easy, showing a native 
grace that is the very poetry of motion. His 
steady warfare upon many kinds of vermin makes 
him a valuable scavenger, but his forays on the 



220 BIRD PARADISE 

poultry yard pretty effectually liide all his virtues. 
I yield him the favor of seeing his good qualities 
first, which is one of the methods of fellowship 
that really conserves the good, both in the seen 
and the one who sees. 



With what ease and dispatch our insects and 
some of the smaller animals get into winter quar- 
ters. With many of them there seems to be no 
preparation any further than simply to fold their 
hands where the winter stroke finds them. Just 
here on the window sill are two or three flies that 
I am quite sure have put on their winter suit and 
put it off several times already. The newly kin- 
dled fire warms up their nest, life is astir, and to 
all intents they are flies again, ready for any es- 
capade of fly life. The fire dies down, the cold 
asserts itself, and my small friends are as inert 
and lifeless to all appearance as the piece of wood 
upon which they lie. So with the bats and the 
woodchucks in the main, though the larger ani- 
mals always show some signs of life. It seems 
like a very handy way of doing things, and no 
doubt there are many beings in other walks of life 
that would be glad to adopt some such handy 
scheme. Eip Van Winkle had some experience 



BIRD PARADISE 221 

Id the business, and while it served to tide over 
several hard places he did not in the end exactly- 
like it. I apprehend that most of us, under such 
circumstances, would feel that we had lost some- 
thing of value. 



One of the old signs of the countryside reads, 
''When the field-mice improve the fall weather 
to put their homes in the hollow trees, then the 
winter to follow will be a severe one.^' I have 
known the sign to fail as often as otherwise, but 
then nearly all signs do that. Part of the lasting 
value of the ordinary sign is its failure to ratify 
the original outreach. What a curious life it is 
that the little field-mice present to us. Whether 
we can use them as prophets or not, the fact re- 
mains that they go to and fro in the wide fields 
always on duty, as they see and know the grace. 
Sometimes when I am crossing the fields I visit 
the large stone heaps, knowing well that my small 
friends harbor there and have something to say- 
to me. Not long ago I turned over a half de- 
cayed rail, and in so doing uncovered the nest of 
a pair of these little fellows. It was the species 
that we term the jumping mouse. There were 
four or five young ones in the nest, and the way 



222 BIRD PARADISE 

they sought safety was most amusing. Each 
young fellow fastened his teeth firmly in the 
mother's side — holding on stoutly while she 
jumped rapidly away. At the sides of the stone 
piles I frequently find evidence that shows the 
ranks of these little creatures decimated by the 
tragedy of a night-time. A strolling fox or 
skunk, lying in wait, has taken his prize at the 
door of the fellow's humble dwelling, feasting 
upon it in sight and sound of the frightened 
household. Ah, how widely this condition of 
creature life reaches ! Hardly a life in the wide 
domain of being that continues its existence but 
uses this means. To be requires something not 
to be, and who shall say that it is not the saving 
of all ! 



The chickadee always behaves well, but some- 
way I think he is at his best in the winter. The 
little fellows take possession of my lawn trees — 
apparently just as happy in the snow and cold as 
when the flowers bloom. While they are socially 
inclined, I rarely ever see more than ^ve or six 
in a flock. As architects, they rank with their 
near relatives, the woodpeckers. In the cold 
weather their snug homes in the trunk of the 



BIRD PARADISE 223 

tree defy the discomforts of the season. They are 
particularly well situated for light housekeeping. 
Their table is as extensive as all the trees in their 
reach. Bark table-spreads and the viands, just 
under the bark — always ready for use. Faultless 
table manners mark their demeanor, while they 
are taking their meals, and food-taking employs 
most of their waking time. When I visit the 
wood I am met at the door by the chickadees, 
and usually they accompany me during my entire 
stay. Easily I get the idea that they are extend- 
ing a cordial welcome to the parson. The idea 
does me good and seems to do the birds good 
also. The ups and downs of life are nicely illus- 
trated by the chickadee's movements. He ap- 
pears the happiest when he is running down the 
tree. His athletics combine all the turns and 
twists that can be made by a living creature. 
Then that song of his ! What can be cheerier — 
the very tone of it, domestic in every sense of 
the word ! A piece of meat hung in the porch 
centres their attention during the winter, while 
furnishing them with a feast that they appreciate. 



The Audubon calendar for 1908 bears on its 
first page a picture of a bevy of nuthatches that 



224 BIRD PARADISE 

seem to impart a summer air to wliat otherwise 
would be regarded as a winter scene. The two 
species — red and white breasted — are given in 
the sketch and if one of them should sound the 
peculiar call of the bird the picture would be 
complete. These birds bear a close resemblance 
to chickadees and sapsuckers and are easily mis- 
taken for those birds. Their movements, while 
very similar to the ones above named, have some 
turns peculiar to the species. They seem to be 
the real acrobats of the bird host. No other bird 
gets up and down the trunk of the tree with the 
perfect ease of these fellows. Head downward is 
their favorite attitude and I am told they fre- 
quently sleep in this position. They are adepts 
at shaping their nests. In some half decayed 
branch they excavate a hole eight or ten inches 
deep. This they line with some soft material 
and after rearing their young make it their home 
for the remainder of the year. I scarcely ever 
see them in my lawn trees only in the winter. 
No other bird excels them in good-natured friend- 
liness. I never see them quarreling with other 
birds and among themselves they pass the time 
in the fellowship of a household that is a unit 
in its common aims and work. On the old farm 
in my boyhood they were daily visitors during 



BIRD PARADISE 225 

the winter. These that I see now seem to be the 
same birds that I saw sixty years ago, and so far 
as their actions are concerned they are the same 
fellows. 



A pair of nuthatches patrolled my lawn trees 
one day this week. The weather was not per- 
fect, but it was not allowed to interfere in the 
slightest degree with the birds. They went 
about their business, which really looked like 
play, in the cheery fashion peculiar to their race. 
Up and down and all around they went, and I 
fancied there was not a square inch on the trees 
they did not look over. They would roll around 
at times, as though hung on a pivot, the little 
body balancing perfectly. They gave voice to 
their feelings, and no more domestic sound can 
be heard anywhere. With nuthatch, I am per- 
fectly willing that he should keep the ripple of 
song he possesses, for it certainly ripples in a 
most delightful manner. What a great store- 
house of food in common with the woodpecker 
these fellows have nicely provided for themselves. 
One who knows how perfectly, in the fall of the 
year, cans a hundred and more different varie- 
ties of meats, and all that nuthatch has to do 



226 BIRD PARADISE 

when hungry is to open a few of these cans and 
appropriate the contents. So far as I know, none 
of them ever spoil, or if they do, there is always 
enough left to supply every possible want. Com- 
mend me to nuthatch as a can opener. With 
that little bill of his he loosens the cover, and 
with a dexterous toss of the head throws it off, 
taking the contents apparently in the very act of 
opening. The know how of birds often seems to 
be the outcome of a sort of instinct that works 
with care and dispatch, even when entirely 
untrained. 



The hill country brook has a character all its 
own. Then it has a phase of being which be- 
longs wholly to the season through which it is 
passing. I never cross one of the old-timers 
without tarrying, if I have the time, to pro- 
pound a few questions. It may sound a little 
curious to say that I talk to the brook and the 
brook talks to me. I am getting to the place 
where I feel, if I do not know, that there is noth- 
ing dumb in the wide domain of life but he that 
won't speak. The speech of the brook ripples 
with good things. It mingles all with laughter. 
It sings as it runs, and no other thing in nature 



BIRD PARADISE 227 

is more alive or more sure of a hearing. The 
winter stream, with its crystal ornaments, ap- 
peals to all the best in all other hearts. Those 
smooth stones in the channel, thrown together as 
they are, never seem irregular or out of place. 
Every sound of the stream murmurs with a winter 
tone and the deeper pools flash out to the waiting 
parson visions of victories where the water re- 
joices. Ah, how much there is that is good in 
the brook, that goes on forever ! 



A little nuthatch from the swamp interviewed 
me this week. He came in to my lawn trees 
without any particular ceremony, and I noticed 
seemed to regard the locality as a part at least 
of his home. One of the distinguishing charac- 
teristics of our birds is the manner in which they 
enjoy their privileges in Mother Nature's great 
house. All their movements indicate the owner- 
ship in fee simple of the entire domain around 
them. How easily they accomplish it all. They 
all own it together and all enjoy it together. 
** Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness ^' in 
their own house and in their own way — their 
declaration of independence reads that way, and 
they behave that way. My visitor went about 



228 BIRD PARADISE 

his special business and attended to it with assid- 
uous care, never once even intimating that he 
was anywhere else but at home. His soft note 
was full of a domestic flavor that was most pleas- 
ing. He stayed nearly all the forenoon, but the 
call did not seem very long, as he amused him- 
self most of the time. I took care to inform him 
as best I could that he was always welcome. 



Going quite early to the barn on a recent 
morning, I was saluted by the call of the little 
screech-owl. The fellow had dropped into one 
of the evergreens on the front lawn and was evi- 
dently desirous of surprising the parson with his 
curious medley of sounds. I went out to the 
tree and watched some little time, but failed to 
get sight of the fellow. He kept up his call 
until the sun looked over the eastern hill, and 
the night was gone. Then I conclude he made 
his way to the covers of the swamp just east of 
the village. This owl is the smallest of the sev- 
eral species known in our hill country, in fact, 
I think at the present he is our only regular owl 
resident. I sometimes hear his call in the night 
and I hardly know of any other sound made by 
birds that seems quite so uncanny. These little 



BIRD PARADISE 229 

fellows are great scavengers. Grubs, large in- 
sects, mice, frogs and toads are among the viands 
of their daily bread. I suppose they make use 
of some of the smaller birds when they come in 
their way. I saw on the plains of the southwest 
a little owl that seemed like an exact counterpart 
of our diminutive friend. Its home was with 
the prairie-dogs and it was known as the burrow- 
ing owl. I learned that it occupied the holes 
that the dogs had abandoned, living on good 
terms with its active neighbors. I heard its call 
and in some respects it resembled that of its 
Northern kinsman. Another difference was quite 
marked. Our l^orthern bird does all its active 
work in the night ; the Southern bird is on duty 
through the day, hiding away in the darker 
rooms of its home during the night. I rather like 
the call of this bird of the night. It savors of 
life, even though its weirdness seems a little for- 
bidding. 



The chickadees have begun their annual visits 
to my lawn trees. They time their first coming 
to the ripeness of the season. Last week they 
appeared and I have heard or seen them every 
day since. I know of no other bird more domes- 



230 BIRD PARADISE 

tic in his tastes and the note he utters through 
the day savors quite fully of quiet home life. 
The young fellows begin the use of the note 
pretty soon after they get command of the art 
of flight. So far as I can tell the bird seems to 
trill his note of song mostly for the comfort 
which it secures to him. He goes on his way 
searching the trees for bugs and worms, t^elling 
out the gladness of his little heart almost at 
every turn he makes, and he seems to be turning 
all the time. Like his first cousins, the wood- 
peckers, he appears to care very little what posi- 
tion he is in, as he busies himself with his bird 
duties. It is a standing marvel to me the amount 
of food he manages to dispose of daily. Their 
regular hour for eating is all the time through 
the day. They begin with the day and fre- 
quently I discover them, eating and eating, as 
the suD goes down. It is simply wonderful how 
the birds eat as they do and avoid nearly, or 
quite, all sickness. Of course they can't eat be- 
tween meals for they only have odc meal a day. 
But continuous feasting, life apparently made up 
almost wholly of that, it would seem might 
throw good health to the winds, but nothing of 
the kind appears. On and on they go, healthy 
and happy. I^o use for doctors or medicine, no 



BIRD PARADISE 231 

aches or paiiis, do sighs or groans, nothing but 
free-hearted, joyous bird life. Verily the fellows 
seemed to have discovered the secret of living, 
and living well. 



I feel quite sure that all of our birds at differ- 
ent seasons of the year take long journeys that 
might be considered of the nature of migration 
if not the thing itself. Those that remain North 
in the winter will at times disappear from their 
usual haunts, sometimes remaining away several 
weeks. Frequently those that journey early to 
the South, like the meadow-lark, will appear in 
the old places, sometimes tarrying through the 
winter. I never have seen any members of the 
species that reach South America in their annual 
migration returning Korth until the summer is 
well established. Frequently we see larks and 
robins here in mid-winter, and some entertain 
the idea that there are birds that remain North 
the entire season. It may be that they are cor- 
rect in their conclusion. There are single birds 
that seem to lose the sense of migration, and in 
such a case they are obliged to tarry at the 
North, getting along very well if they can secure 
plenty of food. I am disposed to think that in 



232 BIRD PARADISE 

most cases where the birds are seen at the ^N^orth 
in the winter, such as larks and robins, they 
have journeyed from the South— in some way 
reaching their summer resort entirely out of 
season. In all cases, however, there is no diffi- 
culty in the birds getting along very nicely if 
the food supply meets their wants. I notice that 
all birds endure the cold very well if there is 
plenty of food at their commande 



One of my favorite winter birds is the pine 
grosbeak. His visits are irregular, sometimes 
two or three years passing without a single speci- 
men of the species being seen in our hill country. 
The last I saw I think was three years ago this 
winter. The male bird wears a very handsome 
suit, part of it quite brilliant in its bright red 
color. They have no love for the sunny South, 
at least they never visit that favored region, but 
seem to be entirely satisfied with the cold and 
snowy Northwest. Their regard for the ever- 
green woods gives them a part of their name — 
the thickness of the bill yielding the latter por- 
tion. Their song, if the word can be rightly ap- 
plied to it, is a sort of soft rambling warble 
broken by a few whistling notes. They are 



BIRD PARADISE 233 

socially inclined, for I never see them only in 
small flocks. Occasionally they appear in com- 
pany with the crossbills — a bird that seems to 
possess some of their traits besides being a winter 
visitor to our hill country with the grosbeaks. 
In the nesting season they hie away to the dense 
forests of the far North, rarely ever breeding 
south of the Canada line. I judge that the time 
of their annual visits to our section is timed to 
meet with and enjoy the inspiration of the driv- 
ing cold and snow. Certainly their action as I 
see them is of that cheery sort that makes the 
best of existing conditions. Let them be what 
they may, I am sure there are times when they 
pass days without much food except the scant 
supply which they manage to secure from the 
wide snow-fields. The buds of the forest trees 
are their principal reliance in the time of deep 
snow. 



A few birds were on duty, but the summer 
songs were all among the things of the past. Far 
down the ravine a small company of crows talked 
together — occasionally sounding their trumpet 
hoarsely through the wood. Under the wide 
carpet of leaves I fancied I could hear the sub- 



^34 BIRD PARADISE 

dued tones of the innumerable insects and worms 
safely housed for the winter. Down the glen the 
brook went its way, telling the same old story 
that it was telling in my boyhood sixty years 
ago. The great hemlocks, dark and solemn, did 
not seem a day older than when I first knew 
them. Several of them told me of the days long 
since passed and of the crows^ nests to which we 
clambered with the keen delight of the hunter. 
The outlook on the eastern side, which I had 
seen hundreds of times, seemed new, as it does 
«ach successive time I see it. I cherish the 
notion that the birds and squirrels enjoy the 
beautiful view just at their door. It is their 
privilege to enjoy it and it does the parson good 
to think they do — anyway it does no harm to en- 
tertain the notion. Part of the way of under- 
standing the birds and animals is by the way of 
misunderstanding. Browning says, ''Through 
the path of mistakes we reach the highway of 
life," and if the principle be a good one I like to 
apply it broadly. I came out of the wood temple 
by its southern gate where, sitting on the old 
crooked fence, I mused of the facility with which 
Mother Nature cleans and readorns her great 
house. She commands the rains and frost, the 
winds and sunshine, puts them all to work and 



BIRD PARADISE 235 

lo ! the transfiguration. Just a grand forward 
march from use to use, from beauty to beauty. 



This morning, just at the break of day, I 
noticed the crows seemed to be in quite a quandary. 
There was a thick fog and they rocked about in it 
like ships on an unkuown sea. Some of them 
dropped down into my orchard and tumbled over 
and over each other in trying to get their bear- 
ings again. A crow lost is as helpless a creature 
as one can well imagine. It seems to affect his 
powers of flight. The wings work but some- 
way all in vain. I suppose the feeling that he is 
lost makes everything about him seem strange. 
These fellows that landed in my orchard didn't 
appear to have the least idea who the parson was. 
Their bowing and cawing was fully up to crow 
politeness, but not in the least intended to apply 
in that direction. When they finally got out of 
the dilemma and fairly on the wing I watched 
them out of sight, and soon after heard an uproar 
in my neighbor's orchard, a repetition probably 
of the twists and turns I had just witnessed. I 
am always interested in the idiosyncrasies of crow 
character. The don't-care, bubbling-over ele- 
ment in it is always at the front. Then the 



236 BIRD PARADISE 

ludicrous side of things seems to be on his vision 
always. The more he is frightened the more odd 
and whimsical he seems to be. His attitude after 
he has recovered from one of his great frights is 
the fellow at his best as a humorist. He struts 
about with a sort of self-assertive air;, utterly 
scorning the idea that his equanimity has been in 
the least disturbed. Crow assurance has no 
modesty to recommend it. 

From where I sit in my study, the broad slope 
of Simmons' hillside is in full view. The carpet 
of snow covered it completely a few mornings ago, 
and the morning sunbeams were dancing over the 
crystals as though the dancers and crystals were 
one life. I fancy they are one, far beyond our 
knowledge. Just at the southern portal of the 
hill a hawk was floating upon his broad wings, 
apparently enjoying his house, all clean and 
white. Down near the old maple at the hill foot 
a pair of crows were lazily exploring the field, no 
doubt looking for a savory morsel to break their 
fast. What lumbering fellows they are, and yet 
they fill their crow places very nicely. I have yet 
to learn of a creature that is without place and use 
in the great economy of being. Crossing the hill 
a year or two ago I heard a harsh, loud scream. 



BIRD PARADISE 237 

Looking up I saw an eagle high in the air, mov- 
ing toward the north. With what grace and 
strength he moved, denizen of the earth, and yet 
free to command and use his little ship of state. 
I watched him until he hung a mere speck far 
over toward Oneida Lake. Now and then one of 
these great birds strays into our hill country, but 
their visits are few and far between. The 
meadows of this hill are favorite resorts for the 
meadow-larks. I never pass there in the nesting 
months without hearing their song, and when the 
young fellows are leaving the nest I often get a 
view of the family training school, which is really 
a house of more than seven gables. I have a 
notion that the old Psalmist had something more 
than the mere physical structure of the hill in 
mind when he wrote : "I will lift up mine eyes 
unto the hills, from whence cometh my help." 
Why not, all the life of the hill,— one common 
heart in it all. 

Occasionally I see a flock of the goldfinches, 
all nicely transformed into real birds of the snow. 
What a genuine bird's life they lead the entire 
year through. At the height of the summer they 
build their nests and rear their families. Then 
they sing and give praise with the best member 



238 BIRD PARADISE 

they have. At that time they dress in brilliant 
colors and go about happy as the day is long. 
When the nesting season is over they all put on 
new suits. Curious that the females renew theirs 
in precisely the same sober color that distin- 
guishes them in the opening of the season. 
Curious, too, that the males should wear the 
brighter colors. But stranger yet, the new suit 
of the male is precisely like that of the female. 
All the winter through they sport together, 
dressed in suits of olive green—the males shifting 
back to the summer suits when the spring opens. 
They are among the brightest of our winter birds. 
I see them frequently in a field, where the waving 
stalks of grass and weeds offer them an inviting 
feast. Their manner of taking it savors of the ut- 
most freedom. The table is a wide one, and the 
guests go from seat to seat, uttering their winter 
call and feasting to their hearts' content. I am 
told that like the snow-buntings they frequently 
make their bed in the snow— the soft robe of 
crystals folding about their little forms giving 
abundant warmth and protection. 



The winter story of the partridges is a book of 
the swamp fastnesses well worth perusing. If the 



BIRD PARADISE 239 

fellows are left to themselves they manage to fill 
up the pages of their daily life with some of the 
best of bird experience. There is no other bird of 
my acquaintance that carries about with him 
cleaner thought and action. I say thought. 
Surely what is it if it be not thought ? I have 
watched them often when they were unaware of 
my presence and the movements they made be- 
tokened thought, or at least what we call thought 
in man. The process by which the old birds 
warn their young of approaching danger and the 
methods they take to lead the enemy in a counter 
direction all show a kind of reasoning that is near 
enough genuine to be the article itself. I think 
partridge loves the snow. His suit of winter 
clothing is every way admirable for the season. 
It is so woven that it keeps dry even in the days 
and nights of driving rain. Impervious to the 
cold and easily kept clean, though worn months 
without washing, he seems to be in perfect order 
for all kinds of weather. The buds on the trees 
supply him with food, while the pure white snow 
furnishes a warm cozy bed that is always ready 
for use. What a book such a house could issue 
if it had the means of publishing well in hand — 
rather, what a book it does issue, and how 
cheerily it reads to him who understands. 



240 BIRD PARADISE 



The weather certainly greeted us this year with 
the true Christmas greeting. Cold and crisp, with 
good sleighing, filled the record completely. The 
parson tested it somewhat with a short walk and 
found it perfect for the day. Enough snowflakes 
sifted down to mark the hours properly, and the 
breezes tossed them hither and thither in real 
Christmas style. We noticed that the fleecy 
clouds were having a real carnival. All day 
long, and far into the night they danced to lively 
tunes which the northwest winds played for them, 
and such feasting as winds and clouds enjoyed 
comes to them only now and then. I like to fancy 
that the keen, frosty air is a great Christmas cake 
prepared especially for the clouds and winds. 
Then the notion gets place with me that all the 
good things which contribute to a real winter's 
day find in each other the other self. It looks 
that way, and then it is only a step to the fancy 
that each workman in the great house is a sort of 
living creature. Why, sometimes I am quite sure 
I hear them saying with the Master, * ' Wist ye 
not that I must be about my Father's business? " 
And how grandly they say it. Just a great mag- 
nificent song set to music that is surely heavenly. 
As I pen these words the winds are coming out of 



BIRD PARADISE 241 

the west ruddy with the cold, but so elated with 
it all that I fiud myself saying, '' All the winds 
of the sky-fields clap their hands." Note this : 
There is no scrap of time in the wide realm of 
nature wasted. Every moment is saved, and 
every day is Christmas Day. 



In the storm of snow the other morning I 
was quite sure that I caught the notes of snow- 
bunting's winter call. The wind was blowing a 
gale, cold, keen and biting, and the snowflakes 
filling the air — bunting's favorite weather. The 
sounds indicated that a small flock of the birds 
was riding on the wings of the wind, enjoying 
themselves as only snowbirds can. I was in 
hopes that they would drop down to the pastures 
below, but they had other plans more to their 
liking. I have no doubt but that the flock I 
heard had been on the wing all night long. 
While our hill residents were courting ''balmy 
sleep" the buntings were courting the winds — 
greeting them as hale fellows well met. What 
an experience they passed through. From far 
away to the north they had taken their wonderful 
trolley the evening before and the long journey 
of hundreds of miles had been the merest pastime 



242 BIRD PARADISE 

to them. Someway they jolly not only them- 
selves as they travel, but they give one the im- 
pression that they extend the same greeting to 
everything else that they meet. The great storm 
of wind and snow seems to give them the keenest 
delight. Their storm song has a crystal sound 
as though the snowflakes themselves were ren- 
dering the music of living creatures. In their 
long flights the buntings take but little food. I 
sometimes wonder if they have not outstripped 
us a little in mastering the calls of the fleshly 
temple. The temple is there and the calls, but 
the heart of the bunting turns to the winds and 
cold, finding its greatest delight in their stirring 
fellowship. 



What a fine cold storage plant our birds and 
smaller animals have at their command during 
the winter season. I have been noting its excel- 
lencies and find that in number and quality they 
are not easily surpassed. The grass over the sur- 
face of all our fields is so woven together that in 
many places it forms a fine thick carpet. In the 
meshes of this covering grubs and insects innu- 
merable find their winter home. The blasts of 
the north wind announce to the vast hosts that 



BIRD PARADISE 243 

the hour of their long slumber has arrived. 
Curious how the viands stored in this refrigerator 
all keep fresh by keeping alive, and the keeper 
of it all is cold and frost. But see the conveni- 
ence of the whole matter. The feasters, crows 
and other birds, foxes and smaller animals, when 
hungry have simply to tarry right where they 
are — dining-table everywhere — and feast upon 
the greatest variety of food put before any body 
of feasters. The loaves and fishes of this vast 
world have not as yet been numbered by any one 
and the fragments are ever being gathered but 
never measured. 



One of our smallest winter visitors is the red- 
poll linnet. Locally it bears the name of the 
little snowbird and in many respects is among 
the most interesting of our winter birds. When 
the time of housekeeping arrives he hies away 
to the shores of the Arctic Seas, so far away that 
I think very few have seen its nest or heard its 
nesting song. The musical effort it makes in its 
winter haunts is a sort of rambling lisp that one 
is quite willing should quickly reach its con- 
cluding note. Like the snow-bunting this bird 
seems the happiest when the cold and storm of 



244 BIRD PARADISE 

wind and snow are at their height. Their visits 
to this section are not made every year ; in fact 
it is now several years since I have seen the 
little fellows. It is marvelous how such a small 
package of bird life goes to and fro in the snow 
and cold apparently perfectly oblivious to the 
biting sting of the weather. For months they 
romp and rollick through the snow country, per- 
fectly satisfied with all their surroundings. Their 
food is easily obtained, as it consists largely of 
the weed seeds found in the hedgerows and old 
fields. In times of great depth of snow they use 
the buds of the trees — a repast that is always 
ready for them. Eedpoll, like most of our winter 
birds, is socially inclined, though I think he pre- 
fers the gatherings made up of his own species. 
He wears a coat of a rich crimson color and is evi- 
dently quite satisfied with his brilliant personal 
appearance. We always extend to them a hearty 
welcome, for their coming is redolent with the 
best of bird cheer. 



I heard the loud cries of the blue jays this 
morning. They had come up from the swamp 
and were having a little blue jay fun in my neigh- 
bor's orchard. They have visited the village 



BIRD PARADISE 245 

ouly two or three times this winter — something 
unusual in our hill country experience. When 
the weather is open they doubtless find plenty of 
food in the woods and swamps. The deep snow 
interferes somewhat with their food supply and 
sends them searching for it in the orchards and 
lawns of the village. Of course they bring their 
bugle with them, and are sure to use it if they 
have a shadow of a chance to do so. I like the 
note they use if I do not have too much of it. It 
certainly has more to recommend it in the winter 
than in the summer. Someway the snow-fields 
seem to soften the tone in a measure. Then the 
belligerent echo of the summer is absent also, 
which is certainly a great improvement. The 
jay throws down the gauntlet to all other birds. 
He is utterly careless regarding their rights. I 
sometimes fancy that he has the notion that the 
world was made especially for him. Some day, 
perhaps, in the forward march of evolution he 
may appear in a new character, and how his fel- 
low birds will enjoy the coming of that day ! 



My first visit from the blue jays this winter oc- 
curred this week. Quite a number of them came 
up from the swamp and for a time the village 



246 BIRD PARADISE 

rang with their sharp voices. When I first saw 
them they were passing to and fro in the park, 
evidently enjoying their visit as a sort of Christ- 
mas carnival. There was some food hunting, in 
fact that is a large portion of the work of all our 
winter birds. I say work, but really their food 
is so arranged that about all they have to do is to 
go from tree to tree and simply pick it up. I 
rather enj oy watching them when feasting. Their 
table manners are perfect after their kind, and 
while they are not over- generous in sharing the 
viands with one another there is a certain kind 
of fellowship in what they do that savors of real 
brotherhood. I noticed that one of the birds 
made a careful inspection of the old nests that 
hung on the leafless trees. With his stout bill he 
tore them apart and scattered the pieces over the 
snow. From some of the movements that he 
made I inferred that he found some food there, 
which suited his taste. I studied their calls a 
little, hoping to decipher some of their meaning. 
For my pains I did not receive much more than 
I already possessed. They knew what they meant 
and used the knowledge no doubt to advantage. 
The faultless fit of their bright blue suits was 
most noticeable and their spotless appearance 
added not a little to the attractiveness of their 



BIRD PARADISE 247 

company. Blue jay in the winter is really a very 
attractive companion. 



Quite a number of the inhabitants of our hill 
country have gone into winter quarters. From 
what I see I j udge that the process is an easy one 
— simply going to sleep, having first found the 
right place. The insects perhaps — the greater 
portion of them — are always in the right place. 
The stroke of cold comes and the rubicon is crossed 
without any thought or even slightest sign of 
preparation. If the weather be favorable the lit- 
tle fellows may wake and sleep a dozen times 
during the winter without any particular harm 
ensuing. The earthworms have a sort of pre- 
sentiment of what is coming and take refuge in 
the lower rooms of their large mansion. The ants 
and grubs, toads and frogs close the outside doors 
of their various houses and drop off to sleep with 
no thought troubling them as to when or how 
awakening may come. The woodchuck retires 
to the deepest part of his underground cottage 
and even before the cold and snow arrive has for- 
gotten life and all its cares. Two or three times 
I remember seeing the bat in full position for the 
winter's campaign. One might readily think 



24.8 BIRD PARADISE 

that they would find a nook well out of sight of 
all earthly things, but nothing of the kind ap- 
peared in the instances that came to my knowledge. 
In the darker part of the old barn loft, the little 
hooks along the edges of the wings were fastened 
to the board or rafter, and thus suspended the lit- 
tle creature braved with perfect success the cold 
and frosts of winter. When to do it and how to 
do it they seem to understand perfectly. 



The weather makes itself felt among the wild 
creatures, as it does among human beings. This 
I note, however, with the birds, that is not as 
common with the lords of creation as it ought to 
be. They seem to meet it all with a cheerful 
spirit, and if food be plentiful go on from day to 
day in a joyful manner. Even as I write a com- 
pany of chickadees are passing to and fro in my 
lawn trees, and though the weather is cold and 
snowy there is not a bird other than bright and 
happy. Of course they are warmly clothed and 
have nothing else to do but eat, drink, and be 
merry, yet that does not always insure happiness. 
Sometimes the conditions appear perfect, and the 
creature's action exceedingly imperfect. But I 
see so little of this among the birds that I rarely 



BIRD PARADISE 249 

have occasion to note it down. My black cap 
friends have no knowledge, I believe, of any other 
manners but those that are recorded in the book 
of life. If behavior carries the birds safely within 
the house beautiful then chickadee has nothing to 
fear. Among the saints of the bird host these 
little fellows rank high ; in fact I see no way they 
can be outranked. Their winter cottages are 
nicely located in the hollow of a sheltering tree, 
and in the cold season of the year they have few 
enemies to trouble them. Sometimes several of 
the little fellows occupy a single cottage — a stroke 
of wisdom that enhances the comfort of the com- 
mon house wonderfully. In the thicker part of 
the old swamp these chickadee homes appear, and 
sometimes when I drop in upon them the entire 
village comes out to greet me. 



I have watched a little lately expecting some 
winter visitors from the Arctic regions. One of 
the most lively and cordial of them all is the lit- 
tle pine siskin or pine-finch as it is sometimes 
called. They are not regular visitors to our lo- 
cality, but I see them nearly every winter. As 
the name indicates they are lovers of the ever- 
greens and spend most of their time in the pines 



250 BIRD PARADISE 

and larches. They use in their winter haunts a 
feeble call note, but of course like other birds save 
their song for the nesting season. They are about 
the size of the common goldfinch, and appear very 
much the same, as I see them. I have seen it 
stated that they sometimes build nests and rear 
their young in the winter. As most of their food 
is furnished by the pine and spruce cones they 
would have no difficulty in finding a supply for 
the young birds. Some writers state that they 
occasionally breed in the Adirondacks and North- 
ern l^ew England, but I have never seen their 
nest. I frequently see the siskins and goldfinches 
feeding together in the hedgerows, and as their 
winter dress is nearly the same in color they are 
easily confounded. They have the dipping flight 
of the goldfinch, and the few notes they use re- 
semble those of that bird. 



Our great flock of crows is now slowly forming. 
I notice that the regular annual movement of the 
host is asserting its power. Somewhere east of 
us the roosting place has evidently been selected 
and early every morning the black fellows wing 
their way to the wide pasture which I fancy ex- 
^tends a hundred miles and more westward. I 



BIRD PARADISE 251 

wonder if other great flocks have place in our 
Northern country. Of course there is room for 
them and doubtless they fill that room. The 
crow is a sort of nondescript among the birds. 
I have noticed that he is quite apt to do what we 
do not expect him to do. In fact that seems to 
be the upshot of most of his action with his fel- 
lows. To all appearance he enjoys a real sally 
of wit with the keenest zest. When he is off 
guard all his movements savor of a drollery that 
is most amusing. Nothing that he enjoys more 
than poking that long bill of his into the busi- 
ness of all his fellows and he is sure to do it if he 
has half a chance. I have watched them getting 
settled in their roosting place for the night. No 
minstrel show was ever more amusing. They 
are all end men, and I often feel that most of the 
noise they make is genuine laughter. No crea- 
ture that I know is more given to the convivial 
than the crow. If matters are favorable he eats 
most of the time. The coverts of the grass are 
stored with his principal food and he enjoys it 
all with true crow gusto. How the fellow keeps 
the fires of life burning on some of our zero 
nights is a mystery to the parson. Think of that 
bedchamber on the bare limb of a great tree, 
the winds tossing the limb and ruffling Mr. 



252 BIRD PARADISE 

Crow's feathers all the night through ! Mani- 
festly the fellow is totally undisturbed by it all. 
He is the same old crow whether he sleeps or 
wakes, whether it be cold or warm. He acts as 
though he had fully learned how to make the 
best of things, let them be what they may. Why 
is not that alone quite a liberal education ? 



I saw this week a small flock of snow-buntings 
having one of their bird games in the very midst 
of the snow-storm. There was hardly sufficient 
stress of wind to meet the requirements of one of 
their games and yet they made full use of what 
was proffered them. They jollied the flakes of 
snow, whirling about among them as though they 
were all living creatures. Some of them went 
far up the stairway of the sky, even passing out 
of sight among the whirling flakes. Others went 
down to the old pasture back of the cemetery, 
where they partook of a real feast spread bounte- 
ously for them in one of the hedgerows there. I 
notice they vary their winter song to suit the 
occasion. When riding full speed on the wings 
of the wind they use a song that almost seems to 
be a part of the storm itself. When taking their 
food they shape the song into a very quiet re- 



BIRD PARADISE 253 

frain that can be heard only a short distance 
away, and on a pleasant day they trill a song in 
keeping with the day but not as loud and stir- 
ring as when the storm is raging. Happy fellows 
they all seem to be and most gladly we give them 
the right hand of fellowship. 



I see the peculiar tracks of the skunk here and 
there in the soft snow. The singular character 
of this creature is very plainly pictured in the 
trail he leaves behind him. His movement is of 
the sluggish sort and the footprints are multi- 
plied in number far beyond those of any other of 
our smaller animals. Last night one of these 
fellows walked around my barn two or three 
times. He took good care to examine every 
crevice he could find, and I noticed that where 
the fowls were snugly sleeping he made extra 
efforts to push his way into the enclosure. 
Of course, the fowls protested, the noise they 
made frightening the intruder away. I could 
see where he moved across the field, leav- 
ing a well-plowed furrow in the snow. This 
animal can hibernate at will. When he chooses 
he can snuggle down in some out-of-the-way 
place and pass days pretty much oblivious to 



254 BIRD PARADISE 

all things about him. Then when he chooses 
he can wake from sleep and take up the duties 
of his narrow life again. At times I more than 
half conjecture he is far from pleased with the 
path he is treading in the journey of time. The 
trappers make his way a thorny one, and every 
winter hundreds pay the penalty of wearing a 
coat that is of large value in the marts of human 
trade. In Oklahoma we had a species of the 
skunk family not much larger than the common 
brown rat. They had all the characteristics of 
the larger species except size, and frequently 
dwelt under the same roof with the human 
brother. 



How the brooks rejoice in a realJanuary thaw. 
Of course they are attractive even when chilled 
with the frost and cold. Their light is rarely 
ever so shadowed by the bushel that its beauties 
are completely hidden. But when zephyrs from 
the South play with the snow, setting the white 
crystals to dancing with an almost forgotten 
warmth, then the rippling laughter of innumer- 
able rills is heard everywhere. Down through 
the fields they flow, wandering with a sort of jolly 
freedom that is most exhilarating. I stood by the 



BIRD PARADISE 255 

channel of White Creek the other day when 
the offering of the broad hillside was being 
received by the larger stream. From every 
side the little rivulets were bringing their 
treasure and pouring it without stint into the 
keeping of the main current. The scene was in- 
spiring. Each rill sang its own song, the brook 
itself blending and harmonizing the many strains, 
making the occasion a concert long to be remem- 
bered. I turned away from it all with the feel- 
ing that Mother Nature had given me a large 
glimpse of some of the beautiful things in her 
great house. 



For some reason there have been an unusual 
number of woodpeckers in our hill country this 
winter. I see them every day in my lawn trees, 
busy I suppose with the many duties that fall to 
their lot. As I see them they seem to have but 
one object really in life. To all appearances eat- 
ing is the one great duty and privilege that they 
seek to honor with all their might. In a very 
marked manner somebody is saying to them every 
moment, "Dinner is served." And it is. The 
table set for them is by far the largest extension 
table I know. Wherever trees are standing there 



256 BIRD PARADISE 

the table is, and such a variety of viands as ap- 
pear is scarcely known anywhere else. Man uses 
a very few of the different species of creatures 
for food, but my woodpecker parishioners appro- 
priate countless numbers during the year, es- 
pecially during the winter season. Many of them 
are smaller, I am sure, than the human eye can 
discern, and one might conclude that feasting on 
such minute particles of food would hardly ever 
enable the eater to really feel or say, ^' Enough.'^ 
Curious that a part of this large family migrates, 
though most of the species remain here the entire 
year. Why they do and why they do not are of 
the secrets not yet uncovered to mortals. 



With the coming of the snow I am sure to re- 
ceive calls from the birds who linger with us 
through the winter. Many of the calls have for 
their incentive a business motive. But they come 
frequently when the social element is largely to 
the front. Their method of shaking hands is full 
of real bird spirit, and while what they say is 
somewhat obscure it has a cheery tone which I 
greatly enjoy. Among the smaller winter birds 
the chickadee certainly ranks very high. They 
seldom look in upon me in the summer— just why I 



BIRD PARADISE 257 

do not kuow — but in the winter tliey are almost 
daily visitors. What a clean domestic flavor 
marks their brief song. It comes down from the 
tree as though the heart of the tree was in it. In 
the wood they seem to regard themselves as 
custodians of the best hospitality the sylvan aisles 
afford. Very often when I visit Bird Paradise a 
little bevy of chickadees will meet me at the en- 
trance and accompany my steps throughout the 
entire stroll. Their attitude is that of hospitality, 
and someway its greeting is warm-hearted, 
through and through. 



The woodpeckers are now occupied with their 
daily winter rounds. I see them in my lawn trees 
busy with work which no doubt is of great mo- 
ment to them. So far as I can tell from what I 
see these birds are fortunate in having no other 
occupation but that of picking up their daily 
bread. Every moment of their waking time is 
given to it, and the marvel is how those small 
bodies can compass so much. I sometimes get 
the notion that their daily menu is all comprised 
in two or three different dishes, and I wonder how 
the fellows can keep so sleek and cheerful on so 
spare a diet. But is it true that a few articles con- 



258 BIRD PARADISE 

stitute the sum total of their regular food ? For 
aught we know there are hundreds of delectable 
things, all nicely prepared and put upon the table 
of the great tree restaurant. The bird can stroll 
about and select what he pleases— having new and 
fresh viands every meal. There are a dozen 
problems that trouble seriously the many mortals 
of the human family that never give a particle of 
unrest to our bird brethren. No defect in their 
cookery. Servant problem not a part of their 
history. Fashion, style, cook books, no use for 
them. Come and go, eat and sleep, romp and 
play, woodpecker life, and yet I suspect they are 
not quite satisfied with it. If I mistake not the 
aspiration to be what they are not is ever their 
quest, and who shall say how largely the quest is 
honorable *? 

The flocking together of the birds shows the 
working of the social instinct and I often fancy, 
especially in the winter, that the large gatherings 
further some scheme that seems of common in- 
terest to the entire species. Take the blue jay, 
for instance. Yesterday morning I heard their 
loud calls from Addington's orchard, fifteen or 
twenty of the blue-coated fellows vieing together 
in a concourse of blue jay calls that I do not re- 



BIRD PARADISE 259 

member to have seen excelled iu all my knowl- 
edge of birds. I watched them for a while, but 
could not make out just what they were trying 
to do. The presiding officer, if there was one, 
had several assistants, and every member of the 
conclave had something to say, and I thought 
said it over several times. The orchard wheie I 
saw the party is a sort of favorite place with 
them, and I notice they are fond of gathering 
there very early in the morning. They can easily 
reach it from the swamp and, I apprehend, the 
acoustics of the place favor its selection with the 
jays. Contrary to their usual custom, they went 
directly back to the swamp, where I heard them 
a little later, telling over doubtless the stoiy of 
the early morning. Their word vocabulary is 
small, a single expletive serving for winter use, 
but I fancy they vary the meaning of each call 
by some subtle shade of expression known only 
to the jays. 

Wednesday morning of last week gave the most 
princely showing of nature life that has ever 
fallen to my lot to see. The night before the 
winter artist had been at work while men slept, 
putting a robe studded with splendid jewels over 
all the trees and fields in the great house. When 



26o BIRD PARADISE 

I first looked out upou the scene there was j ust 
enough light to show the sheen of white thrown 
broadcast everywhere. The crown was put in 
place just at sunrise. There were a few loose 
clouds in the eastern sky, enough to lift the sun- 
beams, as it were, giving each what seemed to be 
a new power. The white was given a glimmer 
like molten silver and with it colors appeared, 
violet, pink and yellow mingling and dancing 
among the crystals until the beauty of it all be- 
came so weird and grand that it fairly fascinated 
the eye that saw and felt its power. Ah, the 
magic influence of it all, just '' speaking and it 
is done." Then what a gallery it is, vast, and 
free as it is vast. I wait where its shadows fall, 
and the faintest gleam of the faintest shadow is 
of the very tracery of life, jewels of the fadeless 
crown. 

An extensive walk last week took me along the 
borders of the swamp and far afield in the open 
reaches beyond. It was a cool, foggy day and I 
did not expect to meet many of the inhabitants 
or fall in with any new adventures. I knocked 
at the doors of the ant-hills, but received no re- 
sponse. I noticed that all the gates of their 
mansions were closed tightly, and knew the resi- 



BIRD PARADISE 261 

dents were well entered upon the unbroken quiet 
of their long winter campaign. A brief conver- 
sation with the crows revealed the fact that they 
were rejoicing over the somewhat unusual supply 
of food they had in the desiccated grasshoppers 
stored nicely in the wide cupboard of the thick 
grass. I assured the fellows that I knew of no 
better use to which the grasshopper could be put. 
Just at the brook side, where the water ripples 
away to the valley below, I saw where the musk- 
rats had preempted a claim and were busy put- 
ting up their winter cottages. Just beyond their 
cabins I saw in the light snow the trail Mr. Fox 
leaves behind him as he goes tripping aloug. 
Eeturning, I came upon a flock of yellow birds 
feeding on the seeds that waved in the tall grass 
at the roadside. Their salutation to the parson 
was bright and cheery, a very proper conclusion 
with which to close a long stroll. 

A pair of nuthatches have been over from the 
swamp this afternoon and given an hour or more 
to patrolling my lawn trees. They belong to the 
woodpecker family and although the smallest of 
this large household are in some respects the 
most attractive. I rarely see them in companies 
of more than two, but the two are social after a 



262 BIRD PARADISE 

very pleasant pattern. I know of no other bird 
that excels nuthatch in all the evidences of good 
breeding. I never have known him to utter a 
harsh note. His ways are ways of peace. Even 
his note of song, like the bluebird's, is so gauged 
that it always seems the offering of a good heart. 
But the most pronounced of his many virtues 
is the domestic air which accompanies all his 
actions. Someway he appears like a true lover 
of home, with all its family cares and pleasures. 
His salutation to his mate honors bird fellowship 
with some of its best greetings. The pair hunt 
and work and play together, never showing the 
least sign of disagreement. When I want a stroke 
of true bird manliness I turn to nuthatch, and so 
far he never has failed to fill the bill perfectly. 
Quite frequently, when I am strolling through 
the swamp, I knock at the fellow^ s door in one 
of the old trees of the place. How his little 
head pops out of the open door and how quickly 
he follows it with the active body ! I know of 
no cozier home among the birds, especially in 
the winter months. The door of the home, like 
the hearts of its inmates, always stands wide 
open, and one of the parson's keen enjoyments 
is the greeting that follows a hearty pull of nut- 
hatch's latch-string. 



BIRD PARADISE 263 



I saw yesterday a party of hunters wendiug 
their way to the swamp south of the village. A 
little later I heard the sharp report of their guns. 
No protest came from the partridges so far as I 
know, but the blue jays lifted up their voices and 
I fancied commanded quiet. If they did do any- 
thing of the kind they certainly failed in their 
effort, for I heard the shooting for an hour or 
more. What a stirring, forceful fellow the blue 
jay is ! When I hear him from the thickets of 
the swamp he seems to be almost all scream. His 
call is a scream, and there is no vestige of any- 
thing but harshness in it. Living as a pirate 
back through the ages, so he has a voice match- 
ing his character, hard, sharp, and most forbid- 
ding. There is scarcely anything the jay says or 
does that I really enjoy. He wears his blue coat 
gracefully, but that is merely the husk of a kind 
of ' ' full corn in the ear ' ' which bird lovers care 
very little about harvesting. 



A fine specimen of the hairy woodpecker made 
me a visit this week. I first saw him in the 
orchard, and one might readily infer from his ac- 
tions that he had been engaged to clear the entire 



264 BIRD PARADISE 

place of insect pests. A little later he appeared 
in the lawn trees, still engaged in his favorite 
work. He seemed to know right where the grubs 
and flies harbored, and surely his method of se- 
curing them could not be excelled. I noticed 
that his winter suit was not only a perfect fit, but 
it was made of a material that sparkled in the 
sunlight in a most attractive way. This species 
is the largest of all that stop with us during the 
winter. I have a notion that he does some mi- 
gratory work as the year passes. I miss them for 
a time during the cold season, and also for a time 
in the fall of the year. As they have nothing 
really to keep them in any one place, why should 
they not take ajourney ? In fact, everything fa- 
vors it. Their larder is as extensive as the entire 
country, and it is always open to their feasting. 
Their roads are highways never blocked, and 
their trolley system furnishes a rapid, cheap and 
comparatively safe method of transportation. 
Equipped as they are, one can easily entertain 
the notion that journeying is their forte. At any 
rate, the jolly workers are "hale fellows well 
met'' with the parson. 

A downy woodpecker someway has become 
possessed with the idea that he should visit the 



BIRD PARADISE 265 

parson at least ouce daily. He comes into my 
lawn house unannounced, but all the same largely 
welcome. I rarely see him in company with any 
other bird, no, not even with one of his own 
species. What a faultlessly neat suit of clothes 
he wears, and how surprisingly spotless he keeps 
them, wearing them as he does night and day for 
more than half the year. Both the tailor and the 
laundress of this bird are adepts in their respective 
vocations. Occasionally he speaks a single word 
— an utterance that seems to fall from his tongue 
entirely unstudied. If he means anything by the 
effort I have not been able to divine what it is. 
His different positions at the table where he feasts 
so extensively box the compass completely every 
three minutes. If he captures the game he pur- 
sues, the particular angle of the bodily presence 
is a thing oblivious to his consciousness. All 
winter long this bird, or others like him, will look 
in upon my small domain nearly every day, bring- 
ing with them their own special life and cheer. 
They must know that their welcome is as large as 
I can make it. 



The school children discovered a little screech- 
owl in the church sheds. In the olden days the 



266 BIRD PARADISE 

discovery would have been tlie occasion of a com- 
bined hunt, resulting, very likely, in the death 
of the owl. As it was there was some hunting 
done, and the little fellow took refuge in the rec- 
tory barn. The bird found a niche which his 
pursuers could not find and made good his escape. 
The boys assured me that they wanted to catch 
him, show him to me, then give him his freedom 
again. I approved of the motive and told the 
boys I would get my eye on the fellow during the 
winter. What bright little fellows these owls 
are ! I see them quite often and hear them fre- 
quently in the night-time. They are not adepts 
in their musical efforts, and still I rather enjoy 
the weird notes that they manage to utter. It is 
curious that the counterpart of our screech-owl 
should be found only in the Southwest. There 
they live with the prairie-dogs, and at a little 
distance appear the same as our Northern bird. I 
do not think the dogs are fond of the owls' com- 
pany, though they tolerate it with a very good 
grace. In the olden time the screech-owl and his 
first cousin, the barn-owl, were regular guests in 
the farm buildings. Some of them nested there 
every season, rendering a full equivalent for their 
comfortable quarters in catching rats and mice. 
They do some harm among the chickens when 



BIRD PARADISE 267 

they are small, but on the whole render a service 
in the destruction of vermin far greater than the 
injury they do. 



The snow sifted down until it lay on the fields 
and lawns two or three inches deep. The morn- 
ing song of the birds was omitted and the birds 
themselves seemed to be a little dazed by the un- 
usual weather. I saw the robins later in the day 
looking around as though a condition of things 
had been introduced of which their counsels had 
taken no note. Most of the birds found their 
way to the shelter of the woods and swamps and 
some I suppose took the bird trolley for a 
warmer clime. How they keep in touch with 
things so nicely I have no means of knowing, 
but someway they do, and are able to make good 
use of their knowledge. It is rarely that I can 
persuade the robins to take any food that I pre- 
pare for them at such a time. If I do get it to 
them it has to be done in such a way as to 
awaken no suspicion that it is other than a per- 
fectly natural table spread before Mr. Eobin. I 
have a notion that most of our birds can get 
along nicely with any kind of weather if they 
have access to a plentiful supply of good food. 



268 BIRD PARADISE 

On the old farm the robins, bluebirds and spar- 
rows would domicile in the big barns and in that 
manner tide over the cold storm handsomely. It 
may be that they can abstain from food for sev- 
eral days without any serious results following. 
I have known some species, notably the little 
grebe, to refuse all food for ten days without ap- 
parently suffering in the least. This may be 
one of the ways that ^'God tempers the wind to 
the shorn lamb.^' The recent storm gave us the 
damp snow. It clung to the trees, clothing them 
in a mantle of fleecy white. The birds seemed 
to regard it as a special festival in their honor. 
They would fly into the trees scattering crys- 
tals and calling to one another like a company of 
boys at play. The sun came out a little later 
and every bush and tree flamed with fire that 
seemed to inspire the birds with new zeal. 



INDEX 



Index 



Bluebirds, 17, 19, 73' Hawk (Night), 168 

Blue Jays, 181, 244, 245, 258, Hawk (Sparrow), 35, 108, 121 

263 Humming-Bird, 150, 155 
Bobolink, 25, 67, 72, 74, 85, 

97, 120, 131 KiLDEER, 26, 29, 38, no 

Brown Creeper, 50 Kingfisher, 52 

Kinglets (Golden Crowned and 
Catbird, 70 Ruby Crowned), 30, 33, 163 

Chickadee, 216, 222, 229, 248, 

256 Lark, 231 

Cow-Bunting, 100 Lark (Meadow), 42, 55 

Crow Blackbirds, 76 Lark (Shore or Horned), 16 

Crows, 181, 185, 196, 205, 235, Linnet (Red Poll), 243 

250 

Cuckoo, 71, 125 Nuthatches, 194, 223, 225, 

227, 261 
Duck, in 

Orioles, 89, 117 

Flicker, 36, 40, 44, 47, 53, 59, Owls, 165, 193 

66, 81, 84, 98, 119 Owls (Screech), 212, 214, 228, 
Fly-Catcher, 116, 127 265 

Geese, hi Partridge, 18, 238 

Geese (Wild), 202 Passenger Pigeon, 41, 46 

Goldfinch, 237 Pewee, 24 

Grackle, 76 Pewee (Wood), 211 

Grebes, 187 Pine Siskin or Pine-Finch, 249 

Grosbeak (Pine), 232 Plover (Golden), 175 

Grosbeak (Rose Breasted), 139 

Robin, 23, 27, 63, 65, 75, 91. 
Hawk, 134, 169 102, 114, 203, 267 

Hawk (Hen), 115, 123 

Hawk (Marsh), 124, 130 Scarlet Tanager, 153 



272 



INDEX 



Snow-Bunting, 189, 205, 241, 

252 
Sparrows (English), 180, 188, 

207, 209 
Sparrows (Junco), 28, 31 
Sparrows (Tree), 170 
Sparrows (Vesper), 172 
Swallows, 80, 109 
Swallows (Eave), 83 

Thrush, 69, 96, 133 

ViREOS, 152 



Warbler, 57, 132, 157 
Warbler (Yellow), 154 
Water Birds, 113 
Woodcock, 64 
Woodfinch, 86 
Woodpecker, 162, 200, 201, 

255. 257 
Woodpecker (Downy), 198, 

264 
Woodpecker (Gray) , 48 
Wookpecker (Hairy), 263 

Yellowbirds, 190 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



DDOlllSatiEL 




